My Youth Is Yours
by OverlyObsessed223
Summary: When Peter is sixteen, the Avengers suddenly attack New York and then mysteriously disappear. The Enhanced Individual Correction program is introduced shortly after, sending the world into chaos. Two years later, Peter is tasked with picking up the pieces his heroes left behind, starting with Nick Fury's brilliantly named new project: the Young Avengers' Initiative.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there! I was originally posting this to AO3, but I just had the thought to crosspost it here. I have the first four chapters pretty much finished, so the updates should be really quick. **

**I hope you like the first chapter!**

* * *

"Focus, Peter!"

Peter tries his best to follow Steve's orders, but it's kind of hard to do so when you're being thrown across the gym by the Black Widow. His body slams down onto the gym mat beneath him, flat on his stomach, and despite the multiple pairs of eyes that are on him currently, he stays in that position for a second, trying to catch his breath.

It's not long until he's flipped over and a gun is pressed to his head.

Natasha's looking at him with an unimpressed expression, her eyebrows raised and her lips pursed together.

"You never rest until you are either dead or your opponent is taken out," Natasha reminds him, removing the empty gun from his head. She stands up, and Peter can breathe easier. She doesn't hold out a hand to help him up, so Peter forces himself to sit up, not quite ready to get back up onto his feet yet.

"I know, I'm sorry," Peter sighs tiredly, looking down at the ground.

He can feel Natasha and Steve's stares on him, but he refuses to meet their eyes because he doesn't want them to see him upset. Superheroes don't get upset—only children do, and that would just defeat the point of Peter trying to prove himself worthy to be an Avenger if they decide that he's too much of a child to do so. Truth is, he's been trying so hard, but he just can't seem to meet their approval.

"Peter," Natasha's voice, while still hard and emotionless as usual, has an unusually gentle undertone. "You have to learn how to stay in the game. I know it's not easy, but in the real world, the gun won't be empty, and then you're in trouble."

"I'm trying," Peter says honestly as he pushes himself onto his feet. "I really am." He manages to get his emotions in check, glancing up at the two Avengers. Steve's arms are crossed against his chest, while Natasha is standing still, her eyes boring into his soul, making Peter shiver a little. Even though he had admired her as a hero when he was younger and even now, she still scares him as much as the first day he met her.

("I would pay the Black Widow to punch me in the face," Peter had once said to his friends. Ned had nodded eagerly in agreement, but MJ had just rolled her eyes.

Now, after having been the recipient of many of the Black Widow's punches, Peter has since decided that he would like to officially retract that statement.)

"We know you're trying, Peter, but it just doesn't seem like you're trying hard enough," Steve accuses lightly. Peter shifts from one foot to the other under the supersoldier's words. "I can't let you out in the field until you can prove that you can hold your own in a fight."

"Mr. Stark let me fight you when I was fourteen," Peter mutters, and Steve and Natasha frown, giving each other a glance.

"And I would argue that maybe he shouldn't have let you do that," Peter can tell that Steve is trying to tread carefully as he speaks. "But he did, and there's no use worrying about what's already been done."

Peter bites his lip to keep himself from arguing, knowing that doing so would just cause more trouble than it's worth. They must know that he's swallowing his words, because Steve sighs, dropping his arms to his sides. The blond steps forward to place a hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Peter, you have so much potential. I see it, Tony sees it, everyone on this team sees it. You just need some time to learn and grow up a little."

Peter nods. Steve gets into a fighting stance, Natasha stepping aside to watch at the edge of the matt. Peter takes a deep breath and mirrors Steve's position, squaring his shoulders and flexing his fingers. Steve charges at him and swings his arm back, aiming for a punch, which Peter is able to block without much difficulty. Peter uses his agility to duck and sidestep the soldier's attacks, dodging out of the way before delivering a blow to Steve's legs.

("Oh yeah, and kid?" Mr. Stark had said right before they went to confront the Rogue Avengers at the airport, "if you get the chance, go for Cap's legs. That's his weak point.")

Steve stumbles a little and Peter pauses, but the man recovers quickly, and in a blink of an eye Steve grabs Peter and flips him onto the ground on his back.

"Again—you've gotta start focusing, Peter," Steve says, looking down from where he's standing over the teenager and shaking his head.

Peter just groans. His head is aching in pain from where it had slammed onto the floor. He sits up, holding his head and feeling the bump starting to form.

"Peter? Are you alright?" Bruce has been sitting in, leaning against the gym wall and watching. He moves over to where Peter is, crouching down in front of him. Bruce shoves his glasses onto his face to get a good look at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Peter says quickly. He's not blind to the way Steve and Natasha both frown when Bruce steps in. "It's only a bump—I'm good, Dr. Banner."

Peter is aware that the team will always see him as the youngest—there's no getting around it, but he sometimes wishes that they wouldn't baby him so much. He's sixteen years old, and sure, some would consider that young, but Peter likes to think that he's proven his worth as a superhero. He's fought the Vulture, the Green Goblin, and Scorpion, along with countless other villains, and he's even fought against the Avengers themselves.

The point is, Peter knows how to hold his own in a fight, no matter what Steve and Natasha and the rest of the team say. Maybe he's not the greatest in hand to hand combat, but his webs make up for it. Peter's one hundred percent sure that if he was allowed to train with his web-shooters, he wouldn't be getting scolded nearly as much as he is without them.

"Maybe we should be done for today," Steve suggests, and Peter wants to protest because he wants to keep going. There is nothing Peter wants more in this world than to prove himself worthy of their respect, but he doesn't argue because you simply don't argue with Captain America. Besides, despite his current frustration with the supersoldier, Peter's not dumb enough to think that Steve doesn't know what he's talking about. He's the leader of the Avengers for a reason.

Peter doesn't outright agree with Steve's suggestion, but he doesn't say anything when Bruce pulls him to his feet.

"We'll continue tomorrow," Steve says. Peter just nods, and Bruce starts to lead him towards the entrance of the gym. "And, Peter?"

"Yeah?" Peter turns around. Natasha has disappeared, leaving just Steve on the gym mat.

"Keep trying," Steve says. "As long as you do that, there's always a chance at success."

With that, Steve moves over to a punching bag and starts to wrap his hands, getting ready to beat the crap out of the hanging pink bag of sand. Bruce pulls Peter out of the gym and into the hallway.

"We should ice your head," Bruce tells him, motioning towards the hallway that eventually leads to the kitchen. Peter just shakes his head and moves away from the scientist, feeling the upset start to bubble up inside him now that he's not in the direct sight of Steve or Natasha.

"I told you, I'm fine," Peter restates because obviously, the good doctor hadn't heard him the first time. "I don't need an ice pack. Can you please just leave it alone?"

"Peter—"

"I just wish you all would stop treating me like I'm five years old," Peter accuses, and a part of him deep down hates that the raised volume of his voice causes Bruce to take a step back. "I don't need my mommy to kiss my boo boo anymore—I'm almost an adult, damn it!"

"Keyword being 'almost'," Bruce points out in a controlled and calm manner. "Peter, you're still a minor. A kid. And besides that, we're just trying to look out for you. That's what teammates do. I would have done the same thing if that had happened to Clint or Wanda or anyone else."

"But it doesn't happen to them," Peter responds, and he feels the anger chip away, leaving only disappointment at himself. "I'm the only one who gets hurt or screws up."

"Peter, you are certainly not the only one who screws up. You do remember that Tony and I built an evil robot with a mind of its own, right?"

Peter nods his head, because yes, he does remember seeing that on the news.

"We all make mistakes, buddy. And trust me, you're improving—I can see it. Just give it time, okay?" Bruce reaches forward to put a hand on Peter's shoulder.

Peter hesitates before responding. "Okay," he agrees, but his heart isn't fully in it. However, Bruce seems happy with Peter's words and lets go of his shoulder, giving one last pat on the back before nudging him along towards the elevator.

"Tony's down in the labs—let's go see what he's up to," Bruce suggests as he begins to lead the teenager down the hallway. Peter complies, but not without dragging his feet across the floor in true angsty teen style.

It was about two years ago that Tony Stark approached Peter and asked him to help bring in Steve Rogers and his teammates. Luckily, after a long fight at the Berlin airport, they were able to successfully talk over their issues like adults. Bucky Barnes was fully pardoned, as there was evidence uncovered to prove that Hydra and Zemo had been behind it the entire time, as well as the rest of the rogue Avengers. Now, they all live at Avenger's compound, focusing on training up new recruits.

That is, singular recruit. Not only is Peter the youngest, but he's also the newest. That being said, the team happens to be pretty split on how to handle him. Steve and Natasha are among those who are hard on him, while Bruce and Tony often treat him like he's a little kid in need of protection.

Peter isn't sure which of those he hates more.

They arrive onto the floor of Tony and Bruce's shared lab that they use when Bruce is in town. Usually, when it's just Peter and Tony, they use Tony's private lab. Tony is sitting at a workstation, pliers in his hand as he bends over his newest Iron Man suit and fiddles with the wiring.

"Hey, kiddie," Tony greets him, glancing up at him for a moment, probably to check and make sure that he's in one piece. "How was training?"

"A beating," Peter complains, collapsing onto the stool across from his mentor.

"I'll bet," Tony gives a half-smirk. "Steve uses the soldier mentality when training recruits. And Natasha… well, she can just get mean sometimes. Hey, pass me a wrench, will ya?"

Peter digs around Tony's toolbox before pulling out a wrench and handing it over.

"I just can never win," Peter continues with his rant. "It's like they want me to fail."

"You know that's not true, Peter," Bruce surmises as he grabs a Stark tablet and begins to swipe through project after project.

"Yeah, kid, Bruce is right on that one," Tony agrees, setting down his wrench so that he can look Peter straight in the eyes. "If anything, Steve wants you to fail so that you can learn from your mistakes."

Peter doesn't say anything, he just crosses his arms and huffs.

"Seriously, Pete. Steve cares about you—I know the guy, and he certainly wouldn't be going this hard on you if he didn't want you to be successful in the future," Tony reasons.

"It wouldn't hurt him to be a little nicer," Peter argues. Tony just shakes his head, picking his wrench back up and going back to work.

"You'll get it when you're older, kid," Tony promises. "Trust me."

Peter doesn't think so. There's nothing to "get". It's plain and simple—black and white.

He wonders if he'll ever be taken seriously.

"Hey, cheer up, Spider-ling," Tony nudges Peter's arm with the end of the wrench from across the table. "Everyone is proud of you, kid. You're doing a great job, especially for your age. So don't look so sad every time Nat kicks your ass, alright?"

"Okay," Peter can't stop the grin that starts to spread onto his face, and he gives in to his mentor's wishes easily—he always does. "Besides, hasn't she kicked your ass before, Mr. Stark?"

"Many, many times," Tony nods, and even though there's a chance the billionaire could very well be lying to make Peter not feel so bad, it still makes him feel better. "Although, most of the times I didn't have my suit on—but kid, everyone has had their ass kicked by Natasha at least once in their lives. It's a rite of passage to becoming an Avenger."

Bruce clears his throat a few feet away as he types away on a computer.

"Except Bruce. But if you kick his ass, the Other Guy pops out to say hello, and nobody is stupid enough to make that happen."

Peter laughs at that thought. If there's one person on this Earth that is a match for Natasha Romanoff, it's the Hulk for sure. And maybe Thor, when he's visiting.

"Now, how about we work on your suit some more?" Tony suggests, setting down his wrench and rubbing his hands together in thought. "Your AI coding could use some upgrades, no?"

"Heck yeah, Mr. Stark!" Peter leaps up from his chair, all grievances from earlier quickly forgotten, a smile on his face. Peter excitedly follows Tony over to where the latter keeps the Spider-man suits that are still being worked on. For the next few hours, they dive into the world of coding, with Tony patiently instructing him on each step, explaining things that Peter doesn't quite understand yet. Sometimes, Bruce interjects with his ideas, helping develop the coding to be the best that it can be.

When it's done, a few hours later, Tony steps back and admires Peter's handiwork.

"Damn, Pete," Tony says with a low whistle. "I've gotta say, when it comes to coding, you're a fast learner. Even Keener couldn't manage to do what you just did in that amount of time."

Peter feels his face heat up as Bruce takes a break from his chemistry to take a look.

"You helped me a lot, Mr. Stark," Peter points out, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You did, like, seventy percent of it," Tony says, and then Peter is the recipient of one of Tony's very rare proud smiles. "But there's still some more work we can do to it. Ready to hunker down?"

They work until lunchtime until suddenly an alarm sounds overhead and throughout the entire compound. Tony and Bruce both look up from their work stations, Peter watching both of them to determine what on Earth is happening.

"That's the Avengers Assemble alarm," Bruce explains upon seeing Peter's confused face. "We'd better go up to the briefing room and see what's up."

"In a minute," Tony says, his attention already back on the AI coding.

"Tony."

"Yeah, yeah, fine, let's go," Tony huffs and rolls his eyes. He motions for Peter to follow as they all make their way up to the briefing room, and Peter can't help but wonder if this would be his first mission fighting alongside the Avengers.

God, he hopes so.

* * *

They end up being the last ones to enter the briefing room. No one is suited up yet, which leads Peter to believe that the threat level isn't currently too high. If that is the case, maybe that raises his chances of him being able to tag along.

Steve is standing at the end of the table, his arms crossed and lips pursed. Natasha is in the seat closest to him, with Sam and Rhodey in the chairs next to her. Wanda and Clint are standing next to each other while leaning against the wall, chatting to each other in low voices. The only one missing from the room is Vision, but just as Peter notices the android's absence, he phases through the wall, crossing the room to stand on Wanda's other side.

"Hi, Peter," Wanda greets him with a small wave. Peter returns the gesture with a smile; Wanda is one of his favorites, simply because she doesn't treat him like a lesser, but as an equal. It's probably because Wanda herself is still on the younger side, and she still deals with the same problems that Peter does.

Problem is, at least she's an Avenger.

Peter is only an Avenger in training.

"Cap, what's going on?" Tony asks, leaving Peter and Bruce by the doorway to approach the supersoldier. At his words, the chatter in the room promptly dies, and all eyes are on Steve.

"There have been reports of a series of bombs attacking the people in lower Manhattan," Steve starts. "We don't have much information, other than whoever is doing it is hurting civilians, so we need to act quickly to stop them."

"This sounds like a little below our paygrade," Sam says suspiciously, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, I'm with Bird Brain on this one," Tony agrees, ignoring Sam's protest of his choice of nickname. "Can't the FBI handle it?"

"Secretary Ross has specifically requested that we go and check it out," Rhodey pipes up, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. "Don't ask me why—he didn't say anything else in the message."

"Tony—you, Sam, and Rhodes will fly overhead and be our eyes in the sky. Wanda, Vision, and Clint will stick to the rooftops," Steve continues, and Peter stands up a little taller, eager to hear what his task will be. "Bruce, you'll stay in the jet and be backup. Nat will be on the ground with me."

Peter has already counted. Everyone else has gotten an assignment—surely he's next. Steve opens his mouth, and—

"If nobody has any questions, then suit up, everyone."

Peter feels his face physically fall. Had Steve forgotten about him? He watches as everyone starts to quickly file out of the room, save for Steve, Tony, and Natasha, who remain in their same spots.

"Um, Captain Rogers?" Peter speaks up, approaching the soldier. All three heroes turn their heads to look at him. "What can I do?"

Steve and Tony share a glance, and Peter feels his hope start to crumble.

"Pete, you're gonna sit this one out," Tony says carefully.

"What? Why? I can help!" Peter protests.

"Son, you're just not ready for this sort of thing," Steve reasons, his tone firm but gentle.

"How am I not—is this about this morning?"

"Kid, this isn't about anything," Tony sighs, "Cap says you're not ready, so you're not ready."

"Sir, Captain, please…" Peter pleads, dejected, but Steve's expression doesn't change.

"I'm sorry, Peter, but I can't let you go out there. You're just too young, kid."

Peter opens his mouth, trying to come up with the words to plead his case, but nothing comes to mind. He turns to Tony, hoping that his mentor will stick up for him, will tell Steve that he is too ready—but he says no such thing.

"I'll get Happy to drive you to your apartment," Tony offers, already pulling out his phone, but Peter just shakes his head, backing away.

"I'll walk," Peter can feel himself shaking with disappointment. "I'm a kid—I can walk, no sweat. I have that youthful step, right?" He knows he's being unnecessarily bitter, but at this point, he's just fed up with everything. He's tired of being told that he's just a kid. Why is he even here, then?

"Pete…" Tony calls out, but Peter is already out the door, making a beeline for the elevator. "Kid, come back here. Kid!"

But Peter just ignores his mentor, opting to push past a confused Happy Hogan and exit Avenger's compound, ready to make the long trek home.

* * *

Tony and Steve are being ridiculous, Peter decides halfway through his journey towards Queens. He'd put on his suit a while back, so now he's swinging through the trees, the city just a few miles away from his current spot. They're being way too overprotective and, dare he say, condescending.

He just wishes that for once, the Avengers would see him as one of their own, and not a little kid who they're training up.

Once he gets to Queens, he swaps his suit for a t-shirt and jeans in a nearby alleyway. Then, with his backpack slung over his shoulder, he enters The Friendly Bean, a coffee shop on the corner of the street. After ordering a drink, he goes over to his usual booth, which is currently occupied with the only person who could ever understand what he's going through.

"You're out of internship earlier than usual," Harley Keener comments as he sips his iced coffee with raised eyebrows. Peter just sighs and slides into the booth across from Harley. "What gives?"

"The Avengers had a mission," Peter says, and he can't stop the bitterness from creeping into his voice. "So my playdate at Avengers Compound was cut short."

"C'mon, man, don't you think you're overreacting just a little bit?" Harley sighs because this is certainly not the first time they've had a conversation like this. "Like, think logically. I'm pretty sure they can't legally lead a sixteen-year-old kid into battle. Do you want Captain America to get sent to jail?"

"He wouldn't go to jail because no one except them knows that Spider-man is sixteen," Peter argues, fiddling with the napkin container. "It just doesn't seem fair. Last year I fought them and survived with hardly any injuries—"

"You broke two ribs, bruised another one, and fractured your wrist," Harley interjects. Peter chooses to ignore him.

"—but now they won't let me fight with them! It just feels so hypocritical of them."

Harley sits in silence for a minute, sipping his coffee, pondering Peter's words.

"Yeah, I mean… I guess you do have a point there," Harley gives in after a minute, nodding his head in agreement. "But… Tony knows what he's doing, and… if he says you'll be an Avenger one day, then you will. For now, just be a kid."

Peter takes a sip of his drink while his friend continues to speak.

"You spend a lot of time being Spider-man, and I think that's good. It builds character, probably," Harley says. "But once this summer is over I go back to Tennessee, and we only have a few more weeks of it left. So instead of freaking out about Iron Man and Captain America… I dunno. Let's build a robot together and use it to mess with Tony. That sounds fun, right?"

Harley gives him a convincing smile, and he can't help but feel his anger at the Avenger's wash away, if only for the time being.

"Yeah," Peter agrees, unable to keep himself from mirroring Harley's smile. "It does."

"I'm glad you think so because I've got some ideas," Harley reaches into his backpack and pulls out a notebook, flipping to a page in the middle that has some rough sketches and designs. "What about a robot that's designed to throw away freshly opened drinks? That'll drive Tony nuts for sure."

"I dunno. That sounds a little too mean," Peter says hesitantly as he looks at the design in question. "And wasteful."

"Dude. We're talking about Tony Stark, the billionaire," Harley reminds him with a laugh. "Throwing away a couple of his soda cans won't drive him to bankruptcy."

"I guess you're right," Peter gives in. He eyes Harley's drawing over thoughtfully. "This is a really good start, man. After a couple of minor tweaks… we could build it this next weekend."

"We should show Ned and MJ first to get their opinions," Harley suggests, and Peter nods his head.

"This is the kind of stuff that they love," Peter chuckles, sliding the notebook back towards his friend. "I'm sure MJ would be thrilled at the chance to mildly annoy a mega CEO."

Harley laughs, but his eyes trail upwards and suddenly his face slowly falls, his eyes getting wider and wider. Peter frowns and turns around, following Harley's line of sight and landing on the TV screen on the wall. It's a news report, with the camera shakily following major destruction happening in the city.

"—It seemed to happen so suddenly, but the citizens of New York are now being attacked by those who we thought we could trust," the woman reporting says, a look of fear on her face as she cowers under a bridge, far enough away from the wreckage but not too far to get it all on camera. "The destruction is akin to the alien attack in 2012. We don't have any numbers on casualties just yet, but it seems to be high."

"What…?" Peter breathes, confusedly trying to figure out what the hell is going on. He subconsciously grabs onto his backpack, his suit and web-shooters just inches away.

The camera zooms in… to show a suit made of red and gold metal attacking buildings and civilians.

"Is that... Iron Man?" Harley whispers, horror lacing his tone.

The camera shifts focus towards a woman using red magic to drop cars on top of people.

"And Wanda," Peter answers. "What are they doing? They're supposed to be on a mission from Ross."

"Well obviously something went wrong," Harley comments, his eyes still trained to the screen.

"Yeah," Peter nods. Then, he grabs his backpack and slides out of the booth, quickly getting to his feet and shouldering his backpack. "And I'm gonna go help them."

"What?!" Harley's eyes snap back to Peter. "Dude, that will be suicide. Do you see what's happening over there? You don't stand a chance!"

"This is my chance," Peter argues, and Harley clamps his mouth shut. "This is my chance to prove myself—to show them that I'm not just a kid. That I'm worthy of being an Avenger."

Harley sighs, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.

"There's nothing that I can say that will stop you, is there?" Harley knowingly says, an eyebrow raised.

Peter shakes his head.

"I have to do this," he tells Harley, his voice breaking just a little. "But hey—when this is over, we'll build that robot. Okay?"

"Okay," Harley nods, a forced smile on his face. "I'll start thinking of names."

Peter gives his friend one last smile before turning around and racing out of the coffee shop, stopping in an alleyway to put the Spider suit back on. Then, he quickly swings through the city towards Manhattan as fast as he can, his heart racing as he gets closer and closer to the area where the Avengers are currently wreaking havoc on New York.

They must be under some spell or chemical that is making them do this. Peter is starting to feel grateful that Steve sent him home because if Peter had gone with them, he would be under the spell as well. They're pretty lucky, all things considered, because when Peter gets there, he's going to knock the sense back into his teammates, and then he'll find what is causing this, clearing the Avengers' names and bringing the real culprit to justice.

He'll be a hero! Not only that, but his teammates and mentors will be proud of him! He can just imagine standing in front of Captain America as he's officially made an Avenger, the war soldier looking down at him fondly as he gives Peter his own important mission. He can see Tony's proud expression as he watches his mentee grow from a boy to a man. He can see all of the Avengers treating him as their equal, and not their inferior.

But all of that crumbles to the ground when Peter arrives at the location, only for it to be eerily quiet.

The Avengers are nowhere to be seen.

Medics and policemen are attending to injured civilians, ambulances having trouble getting through the wreckage on the street. Peter swings and lands in the middle of the street, trying to find some hint of Falcon or Scarlet Witch or Captain America, but there's not a trace. That is until Peter notices a glimmer of blue reflecting the sun's light about fifty feet away. He jogs over, and his heart stops when he realizes what it is.

It's Captain America's shield, half-buried in the rubble.

Then, a couple of feet over, Peter spots something metal and red.

No…

Please, no, he frantically thinks as he slowly steps over to where it is, poking out of the debris.

It can't be what he thinks it is.

It just can't.

But it is.

It's Iron Man's helmet, cracked and broken.

Peter frantically looks around, hoping to get some clue as to what happened here and where the Avengers went, but before he can, he feels overwhelming pain in his entire body and his whole world goes dark.

* * *

**Leave a comment if you have the time; I love the feedback :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter two! Enjoy!**

* * *

When Peter comes to, he finds himself alone in a small room, the only furniture being the chair he's sitting in and a table a few feet away. The walls are dark and bare, with a single lamp sitting on the table. It looks like a stereotypical interrogation room, and Peter can only wonder why he's here.

His mask is off, but he's still in his suit.

Then, everything from earlier rushes back to him. The Avengers are missing, and he's the only one who can save them. He tries to get out of the chair, but he finds that his arms and legs are clamped down with strong metal cuffs. No matter how hard Peter tries, he can't break the restraints.

"They're vibranium," A voice says. Peter whips his head up to see a tall, grey-haired man with a mustache walk into the room, closing the door behind him. "So there's no way you're breaking out of here."

The man approaches Peter, crossing his arms and leaning on the table behind him.

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Spider-Man," the man continues, a smug look creeping onto the man's face. "Or should I say… Mr. Parker."

Peter's blood runs cold as he realizes that this man knows his secret identity.

"Who are you?" Peter demands shakily, doing his best to make himself appear mean and threatening. It doesn't work.

"You don't know me?" The man raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Wow, I guess Stark and Rogers shelter you more than I thought. I'm Thaddeus Ross, the secretary of the United States of America."

Peter remembers Tony mentioning the secretary once or twice.

"Why am I here? Where are the Avengers?"

"That's what I'm hoping you can tell me," Ross leans forward so that his face is right in Peter's. "Where are the Avengers?"

"That's—I just asked you that," Peter sputters. "I have no idea what happened, and I'm trying to get to the bottom of everything."

"You're lying, Parker," Ross spits, his expression morphing in annoyance. "So I'm going to ask you one last time—where are the Avengers?"

"I don't know!" Peter cries out, gripping the armrests of the chair. "I wish I did, but… I wasn't allowed on the mission. Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers sent me home. So I don't know anything that you don't."

Ross cocks an eyebrow, leaning back with a pondering look on his face. A few moments pass with Ross simply eyeing Peter with a curious expression, causing the teenager to squirm with discomfort.

"I suppose a child wouldn't know anything useful," Ross finally says with a shrug.

Being called a child stings a lot, but before Peter can protest, Ross stands up and moves towards the door, leaving Peter strapped in his chair. Wait… are they going to release him? Aunt May surely will start to worry about him.

"Can I go home?" Peter weakly asks, and right before Ross opens the door the man stops in his tracks. The secretary turns to face Peter, revealing a cold, humorous look on the man's face.

"Parker, do you know what events transpired just hours ago?" Ross questions, walking back over to the table and leaning over to place both palms onto the table, looking Peter straight in the eyes. "Your kind attacked innocent civilians."

"My… kind?"

"The majority of the Avengers were enhanced in some way—and they just used their powers for complete evil," Ross explains, looking like a kid in a candy store.

"Nobody thinks that that was them… right?" Peter asks confusedly. "They must have been under a spell or something."

"We have no evidence of that," Ross says. "As far as the public knows, the Avengers turned on them in cold blood. And unless someone brings information forward they'll continue to think that. So you can understand why we're hesitant to allow other enhanced people to roam the streets freely."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Peter frowns, suddenly hyper-aware of the restraints on his wrists and ankles.

"We cannot allow this to happen again," Ross tells Peter straightening up. "So to prevent this, all enhanced people will be arrested and contained until a cure is found for them."

"What?!" Peter's eyes almost pop out in shock, unable to believe what he's hearing. "You—you can't do that! You don't even know if the Avengers attacked with their own free will or not!"

"I'm not the one doing this, Parker," Ross corrects. "The president is in the middle of passing an executive order at this very moment."

Peter feels his entire world start to sink, and he wants nothing more than for Steve Rogers and Tony Stark to burst into the room and tell him that everything was just a misunderstanding.

But they don't.

Peter is all alone.

"So I'm going to jail?" Peter whispers.

Ross doesn't answer for a moment, just peering down at Spider-man.

"Spider-man is beloved by New York and the world," Ross says, sitting down on the corner of the table. "They'll trust him, especially if he's on the side of the good guys."

"What are you getting at?" Peter sniffs, trying to stifle the tears that are creeping up his throat;

"I'm saying that I'm willing to cut you a deal," Ross tells the teenager, looking down his nose at him. "I'll keep you out of prison if you pledge your allegiance to me and the United States government."

"Huh…?"

"You'll belong to me," Ross clarifies, and Peter's stomach flips at the man's words. "Me, and the American government."

It's a daunting thought, signing himself away like this. But if he has any chance of helping find the Avengers and fixing this mess, he needs to be outside of the prison bars. Besides, how would he explain to Aunt May that he's being sent to jail? She doesn't even know he's a superhero, for crying out loud!

"What about my family?" Peter asks. "Will they be kept out of this?"

"Sure… as long as you follow orders," Ross shrugs, and Peter shivers at the words.

But no matter how much it sucks, Peter has a responsibility. He has to do this, so he can clear the Avengers and keep enhanced people out of prisons. Maybe this will be what proves him worthy in Captain America's eyes.

His mind is made up.

"I'll do it," Peter tells Ross, practically choking on the words because this is the last thing he wants to do.

"Perfect," Ross grins, almost evilly, and Peter can't help but shudder. He stands up, clapping his hands together before walking back towards the door. He pauses for a moment before he opens it, glancing back at Peter. "We'll have your first assignment ready for you in a couple of hours. Be ready."

With that, he leaves, and Peter is left sitting in this dark, empty room, wishing with all of his might that Tony or Steve or someone would come and free him from this nightmare.

They never do.

* * *

New York rebuilds.

They have to—life must go on, even when it seems that there's no way to bounce back from the tragedies they've suffered. The loss of the heroes that they adored hit the city—and the world—hard.

Nevertheless, they rebuild, just like every other time. They rebuild everything to be stronger, sturdier, better. Some even go on to forgive the Avengers for breaching their trust. Forgive, not forget. There's a difference between those two things, and the world does not forget.

Just days after the Avengers disappear, United States Secretary Thaddeus Ross stands in front of his people, in front of cameras and the press, while the whole country holds their breath, waiting for what he's going to say in light of such a tragedy. Ross announces the EIC program—Enhanced Individual Correction. All persons with enhanced abilities are required to turn themselves into the US government, where they will be turned "normal" at the hands of scientists.

Any enhanced person who does not turn themselves in by the thirty day period will be treated as a criminal, and the government will bring them in by using "any force necessary".

"Our primary goal is to keep the people of the United States of America safe from anything that stands to be a potential threat," Secretary Ross says, amidst the startled murmuring of the people and the press alike. "We are not willing to risk any more lives by allowing enhanced people free reign."

But even with the polarizing words that are coming out of Secretary Ross's mouth, that is not the most jarring part of the press conference. No, it's the sight of their Friendly-Neighborhood Spider-Man standing right behind Ross, silently watching on as the very livelihoods of enhanced people are being threatened. His posture is stiff and upright, his hands down at his sides.

And perhaps that should be comforting that someone who they trust is on their side. But it just doesn't seem right because he used to be someone they could count on, someone who they could trust to lead them through disaster. He's done it before.

Now he's in the hands of the government—nothing more than a weapon, the big gun.

The last standing Avenger is now just ever so slightly out of their reach.

* * *

There are times in Peter's life when he doesn't feel like himself anymore.

It's like his youth is being snatched away, piece by piece with every enhanced person he's forced to bring in, with every order Ross gives him. Being thrown onto the gym mat at the compound feels so long ago, even though only mere months had passed. It's ironic that then he'd wanted nothing more than to grow up, to make his heroes see him as anything less than a child.

Peter doesn't think of his former heroes anymore. He tries not to think about anything, actually, because these days such an act can drown him to where he's no longer functional, a broken shell of what Spider-man used to be. He's not a hero anymore—just a militarized weapon.

Sometimes, when he's in a safe place and can afford it, he allows himself to think about Harley Keener, and MJ and Ned. He wonders how they're doing, and if they still think about him. He wonders if every time they see Spider-man on the news, hunting down more and more enhanced people on the run and bringing them in, they lose a portion of the Peter that they used to know. Then he wonders how much longer it will take until their version of Peter is lost, replaced with the monster he's become.

Then, he shuts off his brain and shoves everything far, far away.

Peter used to think that his life back before the Avengers disappeared was complicated, what with all of the secrets he used to have to juggle. Now, in hindsight, it seems so very simple. He yearns to have that simplicity back, but it's too far gone.

He gets a phone call from Ross, telling him that there's an escaped enhanced person and that he needs to go catch him and contain him again.

The child deep down in Peter Parker's soul cries, but there's nobody to wipe away the tears.

* * *

At the EIC Center, Spider-Man reluctantly joins Secretary Ross on a balcony overseeing dozens of scientists hard at work.

"We're doing a good thing," Ross says as he peers below at the white, sterile labs. "This is going to save America, and probably the world, too."

Spider-Man just hums in response.

"Tell me, have you ever thought about getting fixed yourself?" Ross asks, curiously. "Having all those Spider powers taken away and being able to be human again?"

Spider-Man takes one look at the labs below and backs away from the balcony, unwilling to stand there any longer.

"All the damn time," Spider-Man answers, his voice sounding older than it had ever sounded before.

But as he gets onto the elevator and descends to the ground floor, he realizes that if Spider-Man goes away, there'll be nothing left to salvage to create a "normal life".

* * *

If you keep going down on the elevator, down below the main entrance, that's where you'll hear the screaming, the wails, the torture. This is the part of "rehabilitation" that the public doesn't see.

It takes Peter all of two years to find it; Ross had always found a way to keep him from it. He finds it after going two floors beneath the lobby floor, and the things he sees embeds itself into his very core because Spider-Man is the only thing keeping him away from those operating tables.

Everything is white, just like the labs above, and perhaps it's to give the illusion that the brightness of the walls and floors equal good, but it's too artificial, too fake. There are people, real people, who are being contained in glass holding cells, practically awaiting their doom—and there's a real sense of peace as if everyone on this floor has just given up completely.

He just walks through each floor, the horror and upset weighing him down like an anchor.

"I was starting to wonder when you'd get curious enough to come down here."

Peter spins around to see Ross, who is standing in the middle of the corridor.

"Well. Now that you know how the magic happens," Ross continues, holding his hands out, gesturing around him, "what do you think?"

"This is horrible," Peter scowls from behind the Spider-Man mask. His fingers are twitching from where they hang by his side. "Not even that… it's evil."

"It's necessary," Ross corrects sharply. "This is what has to be done, to keep this country safe."

Behind Peter, there is an empty glass room with nothing but a table and counter with chemicals. He turns around to see a man being dragged in by two government agents and forced down onto the table. He whips back around to glare at Ross again, whose expression hasn't changed.

"I'm starting to think this isn't about safety, but power," Peter accuses, and Ross doesn't even have the decency to look offended. "And all this time you've been tricking me into being your puppet!"

"Parker, you agreed to this, so don't act like a victim!"

"Yeah, it was either that or be locked up for life!"

"I did you a favor," Ross narrows his eyes. "And I can certainly still send you to prison if that's what you'd like."

"Only if you can catch me," Peter tells him, backing away towards the exit, his fingers hovering over his web-shooters. "Don't forget, I know every tactic, every strategy that is used by your guys to bring people in. Did you ever stop to think about that?"

"Of course not," Ross scoffs, barking out a laugh. "You were just a useless child, and you still are. Nobody is afraid of you, Parker—so stand down."

Peter stands there for a moment, just staring at Ross, and suddenly, it's clear to him that nothing that's happening here in any way is good—it's all wrong. Over those last two years, instead of fighting against the current, he'd gone with it, and when you have nothing to fight for, there's nothing left. Now… he knows what the right thing is, and he's going to fight for it.

That's what Spider-Man is all about.

No, wait, scratch that—it's what Peter Parker is about.

"I've stood down long enough," Peter says to Ross.

Then, in one fluid motion, he leaps into the air and breaks the glass room with the table in it, causing all four walls to shatter and crumble to the ground. Everyone in the room is dumbstruck, so Peter takes the chance and lunges for the man they're trying to strap down onto the table and pulls him towards the exit. Just before he gets onto the elevator, he slams his hand down onto a button on the wall, effectively opening every cell on that floor.

Peter leaves the EIC in chaos—it won't bring the whole thing down, but it's certainly a step in the right direction.

* * *

Later that night, he retreats to his secret, run-down warehouse on the other side of town. It's one of Stark Industries' old abandoned warehouses. It's become his only safe space over the last year and a half, and although it's not much, it's something like a home. Heaving a sigh, he pulls his mask off of his head, then plops himself down on the chair in front of his computers, rubbing his temple with his hand.

He cannot let this go on any longer. He has to make a stand. He has to do what's right—but he has to do it smartly, too. Right now, Spider-Man will certainly be a walking target, especially after what he did at the EIC.

His eyes snap up to look at a small suitcase in the corner of the room. He'd never opened it, knowing full well what's inside. It had been one of the last things Tony had built before he disappeared. Taking a deep breath, he stands up and pads over to the suitcase, getting down onto his knees and unlocking it with his fingerprints. The suitcase lid opens, revealing a pure black suit.

Peter looks down at his signature red and blue suit, and as he does, all the memories, good and bad, that he had in this suit flash through his mind—although he's only eighteen years old, it feels like a large portion of his life has been him wearing this suit. But somehow, it feels outdated… childish. It's time to grow up and become someone else.

So he takes off the Spider-Man suit and pulls on the other suit, and it feels foreign. He misses the other one, but once he zips it back up into the suitcase, he forces himself to keep it locked away. He then goes to the warehouse door and opens it, using his web-shooters to swing out into the night.

Just like that, Spider-Man is gone, and in his place, Dusk is born.

* * *

A young woman runs as fast as she can through the streets of New York. Her lungs are burning, but she has to keep going. There is no other option. In her arms, her infant son is bundled up, miraculously still asleep. She ducks into a nearby alleyway, crouching by a dumpster, using one hand to cover her mouth to keep herself from sobbing.

In the distance, sirens blare, getting closer and closer to where she is. The baby stirs, starting to fuss, and the woman panics. Quickly, she takes her hand off her mouth and waves a finger in the air, conjuring up a tiny flame. She draws pictures of bunnies and kittens in the air above the infant's head, and he instantly calms down, mesmerized by what he's seeing. The woman smiles for a moment.

Then, she hears voices, getting closer, and she quickly extinguishes the flame, holding her baby close to her chest. This is it—the end of the line. The end of her freedom.

"Pst."

Startled, the woman looks up to see a dark, shadowy figure… sticking to the brick wall? They're looking down at her calmly, and the woman backs away. Then, the shadow reaches out a hand towards her.

"I can get you out of here, ma'am," it's a man, and suddenly, something clicks in her brain.

"Spider-Man?" She breathes.

The man is silent before answering.

"Not anymore. Now grab onto me; we don't have much time."

And she does. In one movement he swings her onto his back and shoots a web upwards, quietly flinging them upward onto the roof. Then, he keeps running, gracefully swinging from building to building, seeming to expertly dodge the moonlight.

Fifteen minutes later, they're at the edge of the city. He lands onto the ground and lets her down onto her feet, turning to face her.

"Run," he tells her. "Get out of New York—it's the most unsafe place for people like us to be."

The woman nods, but she doesn't move, fidgeting.

"Don't you work for them?"

The shadow man looks back into the distance, towards the bright city lights. Then, he turns back to her, and she can feel the honesty rolling off of him, even from under the mask.

"I used to," he says. "But I don't anymore."

"Well. Thank you, for everything. It…" she clutches the baby tight in her arms as she looks down at him for a moment. Then, looking back up, "it's nice to have you back on our side. You're the hero that we need."

"I'm not too sure about that, but… I'm just doing what's expected of me."

"What do they call you now?" The woman asks softly.

"They call me... Dusk."

"Well, Dusk, thank you. And stay safe. It's not easy for us anymore."

Dusk gives her one more nod before shooting a web at a nearby building and swinging away, disappearing into the shadows. The woman sighs as she turns around and starts walking. Hopefully, she'll find a bus station by morning.

The world keeps changing, and she wonders how long it will take for life as they knew it to be completely submerged in fear and hate.

* * *

When Peter was younger, he'd spent a lot of time sitting on the edge of rooftops, watching the city down below. It had been peaceful, calming, even, to sit so still and watch as the fast-paced life went on beneath him. He doesn't do that anymore—now he lives that fast-paced life as well, never stopping or slowing down. He can't—the moment he stops to watch the city pass by him, the more people get ripped away from the freedom they're entitled to.

(It certainly doesn't have anything to do with his fear that if he stops, he'll lose the tough exterior that he's built up in the last year. It also has nothing to do with his fear of falling apart, and not being able to put himself together again.)

His favorite memory where he was up on a rooftop was during the summer Harley had been visiting from Tennessee, right before Peter's life got thrown into chaos. He'd been up on some random roof with Harley, Ned, and MJ, and they'd all been watching the city and just hanging out as friends do.

"Is it true that Black Widow and Bruce Banner have a thing going on?" Ned had asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he sat criss-cross on the roof. It was no secret that he'd had a crush on Black Widow for as long as they could remember.

"Sure is," Harley had confirmed, leaning back on the edge of the roof, sipping a can of Coke.

Peter has just rolled his eyes from where he's laying on his back.

"You don't know that," he'd said.

"They literally give each other heart eyes all the time," Harley had reminded them. "Seriously, if it was an English book, we'd use our reading skills to infer that they're screwing."

"Remind us what your final grade in English was last year?" MJ had raised an eyebrow. She was sitting on the bottom rung of a ladder that went up to the chimney.

"I thought you're a firm believer of numbers not defining us," Harley glared at her, but there was no negativity behind his eyes.

"Okay, okay, but like, let's say they're not a thing," Ned interjected before MJ could respond. "What are my chances with her?"

The rooftop had fallen silent as everyone tried to avoid Ned's eyes.

"Really guys, be honest. I can take it."

Harley and Peter both looked up at MJ with pleading looks on their faces. With a reluctant sigh, she looked Ned in the eye and said:

"You have no chance. None. Zero. Zip."

Ned just nodded and looked down at the ground.

"You know, I said I could take it, but… I actually don't think I can."

There was a moment of silence until Harley dissolved into laughter, and his laugh was so contagious that the rest, even Ned, couldn't help but join in.

Peter swears he can still hear that very laughter echoing off the walls as he lands onto that same roof.

His intentions aren't to stick around and reminisce—as stated before, he prefers to keep moving. But his sixth sense sends a prickle down his spine, and he stops, looking around, trying to find the danger he's being warned about. And for someone as focused on him, it takes a moment for him to see the shadow.

It's a person, submerged in the shadows, wearing all black. They're watching him closely as if just by standing there on the rooftop he's intruding. His fingers hover over his web-shooters, ready to fire at any moment. Then, the shadow moves forward into the light, a gun held out towards Peter, and his mouth drops in shock.

"MJ?"

She's a couple of years older, but she looks just as beautiful as the last time Peter saw her. She's dressed in all black, and her hair is tied up into a ponytail. She looks genuinely surprised after he says her name, but slowly recognition falls over her face.

"Peter?" Her eyes are wide, and she almost drops her gun. "Is that you?"

Peter just nods his head, unable to muster up any words.

Her eyes then narrow in a very MJ-like fashion.

"Take off the mask," she orders, still unwilling to fully lower her weapon.

He does what she asks. He pulls the mask off, revealing his face to the first person in a long, long time. She just stares, finally lowering her gun, and if Peter didn't know better, he'd think he's seeing tears welling up in her eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?" she demands, her voice shaky with a trace of anger.

Peter doesn't even know how to answer her question, but luckily he doesn't have to because she keeps talking.

"We thought you were dead," MJ says quietly, unable to tear her eyes away from Peter's. "Your aunt…"

"Let's just say that if I had stayed, May would have been in a lot of danger," Peter says shortly because he doesn't want to go into his whole life story right now. It surely wouldn't help the mood.

They just stare at each other, and Peter has to wonder if even coming in this direction was a bad idea. But he's here now, and he has to give her something.

"What's with the gun?" Peter asks, gesturing towards the lowered weapon still in her left hand.

"It's not—not real," MJ says quickly, putting it away in its holster on her jeans. Her initial anger seems to have worn off. "It's an Icer. I don't believe in the real things, that hasn't changed."

Peter can't help but smile a little. He'd missed MJ, and seeing her here, still her same weirdly amazing self, is awesome.

"I'm an agent for SHIELD," MJ continues, and Peter's eyebrows raise in surprise. His surprise doesn't go unnoticed by her. "Yeah, they didn't require any education qualifications from us, as long as we passed a couple of tests. Fury contacted me the day after graduation and said that… us having known you was enough for him to let us into their training program."

"Us?"

"Yeah—Ned and I," MJ responds. "Though Ned mostly sticks to the computers."

"Well, that's… that's awesome," Peter tells her, and he means it. He's so happy that they both have found places in the world.

"I guess you stuck with the hero thing?"

Peter shifts on his feet.

"I wouldn't phrase it like that… more like I'm just trying to right the world's wrongs," Peter answers truthfully.

Another moment of silence passes.

"Let me help you," MJ says suddenly, and Peter feels his defenses start to build back up.

"What?"

"You don't have to do this alone," MJ says, and there's something akin to desperation in her eyes. "Ned and I—we can help. We… Ned needs you. When you disappeared, he shattered. You don't know what it would mean to him to see you again."

"I can't," Peter firmly says, even though his heart is begging him to say the opposite. "I have to do this alone, I can't—"

I can't be the one who puts you in danger.

"You're an idiot," MJ narrows her eyes, looking more hurt than Peter had ever seen her.

"I'm sorry," Peter murmurs, and he knows he should stay, talk to her more. But instead, he pulls the mask back over his head and dashes away, swinging from building to building, leaving her in the distance. He tries to forget her hurt expression, the tears that were threatening to spill.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can't.

* * *

When he gets back to his warehouse, it's almost two o'clock in the morning. The city, though not silent, can hardly be heard in the distance, and Peter just wants to pass out on the couch upstairs. Unfortunately, it seems the universe has other plans.

The first thing he sees when he steps through the warehouse door is… Nick Fury?

Yes, that's him alright, Peter confirms after rubbing his eyes and double-checking. Nick Fury is sitting in his computer chair, with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on him.

"What—what the hell?" Peter sputters from under the mask.

"I see Spider-Man has a new look these days," Fury comments, ignoring Peter's obvious surprise.

"Yeah well, uh, that's because it's not Spider-Man," Peter coughs, leaning up against a wall casually after regaining his bearings. "He's been gone for a while now."

Fury raises an eyebrow.

"So who am I speaking to?"

"Dusk," Peter responds.

"Hmm. A very grown-up alias indeed, Mr. Parker," Fury notes cooly.

"Yeah. Wait, how did you—"

"I'm Nick Fury, kid. Isn't that enough explanation for you?"

Fair enough. Peter sighs and pulls off his mask for the second time that night.

"So, what are you doing here?" Peter asks, suddenly feeling very worn out.

"Great question," Fury says, getting out of the chair and walking over to the middle of the room. "I am here because I need an Avenger."

And a jolt of electricity shoots through Peter at that word… he hasn't heard that word in a long time.

"Well I hate to break it to you, but they're all gone," Peter says, swallowing hard. "They all disappeared. Even Stephen Strange and Scott Lang are gone. Crazy stuff."

"Not all," Fury corrects, giving Peter a pointed look. Suddenly, Peter understands what the Director of SHIELD is getting at.

"Yeah, right," a strangled laugh escapes from inside him, and Peter pushes himself off the wall, heading next door into the kitchen. Fury follows him, just as Peter expected. "I think you're confused—I never made it to Avenger status. So I'm not one. Sorry."

"I'd be alright with an almost-Avenger," Fury says, sitting down at the kitchen table. Peter puts a pot of milk on the stove and flips the burner on. "I'm not at a place where I can be picky."

"Okay, I'll bite," Peter sighs sitting in the chair across from Fury. "What do you need?"

"I need a leader," Fury answers, leaning forward in his chair. "And I see one in you."

Peter snorts, leaning back.

"You see a leader in me? Dude, I live alone in a warehouse. I work alone. Trust me, I am not your guy."

"But you do have the experience," Fury shoots back. "Think about it—you're the only person on this planet who has even trained with the Avengers. They saw something in you, too."

Peter looks down at the table, fiddling with his hands, not enjoying the painful trip down memory lane.

"So what are you needing me to lead?" Peter prods on, though still not the least bit interested, but if it gets Fury out of here faster, he'll play along.

Fury pauses and takes a moment to think.

"I want to put together a team," Fury tells him finally, and it's so out of the blue that Peter almost chokes on air around him.

"Like the Avengers?" Peter barks humorously. "Because that worked out so great the first time, huh?"

"Our world is fucked up right now, Parker," Fury argues. "There are people, innocent people, being captured and tortured at this very minute—those people need the Avengers more than ever right now."

"The Avengers are gone!" Peter shouts suddenly, standing up with so much force that his chair falls backward, landing on the tile with a clang. "They're the ones who started this mess! If they hadn't fucking attacked New York with more force than Loki's alien army then none of this would be happening!"

"And you believe that?" Fury stands up too, albeit less forcefully. "Are you actually going to look me in the eyes and tell me you believe that Captain America and Iron Man and all the rest of them just suddenly turned evil?"

Peter forces his breathing to slow down, gripping the edge of the table. Suddenly, all of the anger is gone, replaced with the terrible feeling of helplessness.

"No," Peter forces out, his voice cracking against his will. "Of course not. But there's no evidence to prove it."

"Because no one has found it," Fury says, still looking straight at Peter. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. The world needs someone to find the Avengers and the truth, and I believe that you're the man for the job."

Peter says nothing, just stares down at the table.

"Sleep on it," Fury continues. He pulls a file folder out from the inside of his jacket and sets it down on the table. "I'll be at Randy's Doughnuts tomorrow at eleven o'clock a.m.. If you're interested, come let me know."

Fury moves to leave but stops as he reaches the doorway and turns back around.

"They all believed in you," Fury says. "Don't let them down."

And then he's gone.

Rolling his eyes, Peter walks over to the stove and pours the chocolate into the simmering milk, stirring it until it's combined. He then grabs a plain white mug and pours the hot chocolate into it, taking a sip of it before feeling himself relax.

He tries to leave the room without touching the file, he does. But it's calling to him, burning a hole in his kitchen table, and so with a heavy sigh, he sits back down at the table and takes the file into his hands. He opens it, and the first paper is just a blank piece with words that strike him to his very core, written in sharpie.

**The Young Avengers' Initiative**

Peter's first reaction is to roll his eyes. Leave it to Fury to have a complete lack of creativity when it comes to naming these things. The Director must miss the Avengers more than Peter initially thought.

Then, moving past that, he finds that all the rest of the papers are profiles. Four profiles, to be exact, and all of them are enhanced with superpowers. A supersoldier, a shapeshifter with super strength, a magic wielder, a perfect shot. All of them younger than Peter by at least a year, still in high school. Shaking his head, Peter closes the file up and puts it back down onto the table.

But there is a bigger picture. All four of these kids are living in a world where their freedom isn't guaranteed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to give them a chance to fight for what's right.

Maybe Peter is tired of fighting for it alone.

He gets up, hot chocolate cold and abandoned at this point. Oh well, he's not in the mood for it anymore anyway. He gets up from the table and leaves the room, ready to sleep on the problem at hand.

He grabs the folder on his way out of the kitchen.

* * *

The next morning, at eleven a.m. exactly, Peter Parker enters Randy's Doughnuts. Nick Fury is sitting at a booth by the window, and judging by his expression, Peter has a feeling that the Director has been expecting him. Peter slides into the seat across from him.

"It's good to see you, kid," Fury says. He then frowns at his own choice of words, before correcting himself. "Parker."

"I have some requests," Peter tells him, leaning back.

"I'm listening," Fury says, his eyebrows raised. Peter wishes he'd have the decency to at least seem surprised.

"First of all, I want my aunt, May Parker, protected from the government at all costs," Peter's not messing around with that one.

"That was done years ago," Fury tells him with a chuckle. "We weren't stupid enough to think that Ross wasn't holding something over your head to make you work for him."

"Wait… so she's safe?"

"Safe and sound. Next request?"

"Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones," Peter says. "I want them working with me. They both have valuable skills."

Or maybe he just needs some familiar faces in his life these days.

"That can be arranged. Anything else?"

Peter leans forward, looking Fury directly in the eye.

"This will be done my way," Peter tells him. "I call any and all shots. If I'm going to recruit these kids, you can be damn sure that their safety comes first. No matter what."

Fury just looks at him for a while, not looking away even when the waitress refills his coffee mug.

"Sounds fair," Fury finally agrees, sitting back.

Peter gives one last nod before getting up out of his chair.

"Tell Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones to meet me at my warehouse in twenty-four hours," Peter orders the Director.

"Where are you going?" Fury asks him with a frown on his face.

"Rose Hill, Tennessee," Peter answers with a half-smile. "There's one guy you've left off your list."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Leave a comment and have a nice day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Just to clarify as we get into things—though I am taking many things the comics, such as characters, plot points, and other things along those lines, I can't guarantee that what happens in the comics will happen here. That being said, I'll do my best to make each character as close to canon as possible.**

**Anyways, hope you like chapter three!**

* * *

Harley Keener's life is a simple one.

It always has been, living in a town as small as Rose Hill, Tennessee. It's generally pretty quiet, with the most exciting thing being Iron Man crash landing near their town many years ago.

Sometimes, he starts to wish that there was something more to his life. He'll wish that he could leave this town and head to the big cities, the cities of opportunity. Perhaps a person with as much potential as his own would greatly benefit from doing more than being IT for a small paper company. He used to dream of moving to New York after graduation, working for Tony Stark at Stark Industries. And sure, that offer isn't off the table just yet—he'd gotten an invitation from Pepper Potts' herself a few days after graduation, offering him a position at the company.

But that dream had died after Tony disappeared.

He can still remember that day like it was last week. Manhattan had gone up in flames as the Avengers "showed their true colors" and attacked with no mercy. Then, they'd vanished, just like that.

The rest of the world had lost Iron Man.

Harley had lost Tony Stark, his mentor-bordering-on-father-figure.

Then, to make things worse, a few days later, when Secretary Ross had gotten up in front of the world and made his speech, Spider-Man had been standing right behind him, so stiff and rigid that Harley had a hard time believing that had been his best friend Peter Parker.

So after all that, it's safe to say that Harley is just fine with his simple, small-town life.

He's tinkering in his workshop, which is just his mom's garage. The sun had just set, leaving peaceful darkness behind. His radio is playing music softly in the background, just the latest hits. He's not a big fan of music, so he'll listen to whatever is on.

He's currently messing around with a broken laptop he'd found in the dumpster on his way home from work, seeing if there's anything he can salvage from it. It's a decent laptop—it just needs some new parts. Easy enough, he'll be able to fix it before going to bed tonight.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the garage door. It's most likely his mom or his sister, coming in to tell him that dinner is ready. Knowing that, he calls them in, not bothering to look up from the laptop in his hands.

The door opens. Someone steps in, not his mom or sister, and Harley looks up to see who it is, only to drop the laptop in shock. The laptop crashes to the ground, but Harley doesn't even notice.

"Hey," says Peter Parker, who is standing in the doorway.

Harley just stares, his mouth hanging open.

Peter stands there awkwardly, shifting between his feet.

"Holy shit," Harley manages finally. "Holy fucking shit."

Because it's like a ghost has just entered his workspace, and Harley is having a hard time believing the person in front of him is even real.

"So… how's it going?" Peter asks, and that is what breaks Harley from his trance.

"Are you serious?" Harley laughs, but it comes out strangled. "We haven't seen each other in two years and you just casually ask me how it's going?"

"Just trying to make conversation," Peter shrugs.

Harley sinks into a chair, still unable to look away from Peter.

"I'm just…" Harley bites his lip, trying to stay cool, but probably failing miserably. "Damnit, I'm just so happy you're not dead in a ditch." He finally looks away, turning his attention to the window. "Spider-Man stopped showing up on the news, and I started to wonder…"

Peter shuts the door behind him, and takes a few steps forward, towards where Harley is sitting.

"Not dead," Peter half-smiles, holding his hands up as if to show that every piece of him is still intact. "I just… was tired of doing the wrong thing."

Harley nods, looking back at his friend. Now that he's closer, Harley can see him more clearly and… it's safe to say that Peter has changed. A lot. His hair is shorter, and he's both thinner and paler—not unhealthily, just noticeably. The spark of ambition that used to be permanently in his eyes is now nonexistent, replaced with a sense of weariness as if the things he's seen in the last two years have drained his soul. All in all, it's startling to see someone as young as Peter look so… old, but he supposes that at the current moment, they're not living in a world where the youth can be youth.

"It's good to see you," Harley tells him, a smile breaking out onto his face.

"The feeling is mutual," Peter cracks a smile as well, leaning against the wall of the workshop.

Harley sits back, drinking in the fact that his best friend is back.

"So I assume you didn't come all this way for a visit," Harley says after a minute, and Peter confirms his suspicion with a nod. "What's up?"

Peter holds up a file folder that he had been keeping down by his side. He steps forward and gives it to Harley, and Harley looks through it very quickly. After he's done, he looks straight back up at Peter, realizing that there are bigger things brewing than Harley had even thought.

"We're putting a team together," Peter explains, although Harley could tell that much from the file.

"This Fury's idea?" Harley questions and Peter raises an eyebrow humorously.

"How'd you know?"

"He's terrible at naming things like this," Harley explains, and Peter chuckles. Harley looks back down at the file. "Wait, but… what does this have to do with me?"

"I want you on the team. Sorry, I thought that was obvious."

"Uh, yeah, sounds cool and all, but… what exactly can I bring to the table?" Harley has to ask, really starting to question Peter's judgment. He's always been a bit in over his head, but this is just crazy. "I don't have superpowers."

"Neither do MJ or Ned," Peter takes a seat on Harley's ugly red and brown couch, and Harley can't help but admire his apparent confidence. "Neither did Mr. Stark."

"Woah woah woah, buddy—if you're trying to compare me to Iron Man then you're bonkers," Harley tells him, but Peter's confidence doesn't waver even a bit. He's just looking at Harley with a cool expression.

"He did big things," Peter says simply. "And you're meant to do big things too. C'mon, Keener, you're way too talented to be tinkering in your mom's garage for the rest of your life."

"That is not how I'm going to spend my life," Harley retorts. Then, quieter, he mutters, "I was gonna get my own garage someday."

Peter rolls his eyes.

"Look, I'm not gonna force you into this," Peter says, and he seems to be letting down a guard that Harley hadn't even realized was up in the first place. "But I just… really need your help. Don't think… don't think I can do it without you, or MJ or Ned."

And that's when it hits him—Peter Parker is afraid. Hell, he's being told to essentially be Captain America, only two years after that very man told him he wasn't ready to even be on the team. He's desperate for help, and he's reaching out to the only three people he has left.

Besides, is this going to be his future? When did he decide that he was going to live and die a small-town life? Hadn't he always dreamed of doing bigger things?

"Okay," Harley agrees, nodding his head. "Yeah, I'll join your boyband."

Peter laughs softly before jumping back up to his feet.

"Well we have fifteen minutes until the bus that's heading to New York leaves," Peter tells him, checking his watch just to be sure. "Ah… fourteen, now."

"Let me go pack and tell my mom," Harley announces, springing up and practically racing towards his house.

Thirteen minutes later, Harley Keener is on a bus with Peter Parker, heading back to New York, where bigger things will be waiting for them.

Harley Keener's life isn't so simple anymore, but now that doesn't seem like such a bad thing.

* * *

Just as Peter had requested, MJ and Ned are waiting for them at the warehouse when Peter and Harley return from Tennessee.

As soon as they walk in the door, Ned practically tackles Peter with a hug that almost suffocates him, but it feels nice. MJ gives him a look that almost seems prideful, and Peter makes a note to apologize to her later for running off the other night. For the first time in two years, all four friends are together once again—they've all had their own experiences, seen the world for what it is. It feels different, but it also feels the same, and Peter's chest swells at seeing all of them in the same room once again.

But right now, there's no time to linger on that.

Peter takes out the file folder, and takes out the four profiles, setting them down on the table so that they're all visible.

"Elijah Bradly, William Kaplan, Katherine Bishop, Theodore Altman," Peter lists off. "Four superpowered people who can all bring something to the table. We need to find and recruit them using any means necessary."

"So what, we each will go find one and… bring them back here?" Harley looks up from the table and glances around the dark warehouse. "No offense, Pete, but I don't think this place is going to do anything for team morale."

Peter just smiles.

"I have an idea," he tells them. "We'll go find them, bring them back here before tomorrow night. We'll move forward from there."

They all just stand there for a moment before Harley breaks the silence.

"Got it, boss," Harley announces, saluting him. "Good luck on your quests, comrades. May we all come back alive."

Harley then grabs a paper at random and leaves the warehouse, leaving the rest smiling in his wake.

Ned steps forward and grabs a paper for himself.

"I just wanna say, this is so cool," Ned says to Peter. "So thanks for letting me be apart of this."

"Hey, don't thank me," Peter says with a wave of his hand. "You're one of the best hackers I know. You earned this."

Ned beams at him one last time before following Harley out the door.

Now the only person left is MJ. She peers down at the table before grabbing a paper. She then looks up at him, but there's no anger or bad emotions in general—just a smile.

"Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for the other night," Peter apologizes, just in case. He wants to cover all bases.

"It's alright," MJ responds with a shrug. "I'm just glad you're letting us help. No one should have to do these things alone."

She steps forward and kisses him on the cheek before turning around and walking out the door.

Peter just stands there, gently touching his cheek, staring after her.

Eventually, he gets his bearings, looks down at the table and grabs the last profile. Katherine Bishop. He gets serious again, ready to create something out of nothing.

* * *

When the last bell of the school day rings, Billy is already out of the front doors. It's not that he's skipping—he's just lucky to have a teacher who lets his class out five minutes early. Thank God for teachers who don't do their jobs right.

He pops in his headphones as he begins his ten-minute walk home. The school buses for some reason don't pass by his house, so he's responsible for getting himself to and from school, as his parents work pretty long hours most days. He doesn't mind the walks, though—it gives him time to think.

He's just turning onto his street when he notices a person standing in front of his house. Frowning, Billy takes out one of his headphones, because why would some random person be there?

Then, it hits him.

It could be the government, here to take him away.

He can feel his heart racing as he gets closer and closer to the person. It's a man, with curly blond hair styled up into a quiff. He looks a little on the young side, which is a tad confusing, but that's not Billy's biggest concern right now.

"Are you William Kaplan?" the man asks, glancing down at a crinkled up piece of paper in his hand and then back up at him.

"Y-yeah," Billy nods. "But people mostly call me "Billy."

"I'm Harley Keener," the man says, holding out a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Billy. Say, you have time to chat?"

"Uh, yeah," Billy says, and he's worried he's starting to sound like a broken record. "Do you… want to come inside? My parents are at work right now, so it's empty."

He leads Harley inside, towards the living room.

"So, what are you wanting to talk to me about?" Billy asks, his heart pounding in his chest.

Harley sits down on one of the chairs, obviously not afraid to make himself at home.

"I'm under the impression that you have another name," Harley begins, his gaze lingering on Billy, who has had yet to sit down himself. "Wiccan, is it?"

Billy jumps at the name and takes a few steps backward in panic.

"Hey, there's no need to be afraid," Harley says, holding his hands up. "I'm not from the government if that's what's got you all worked up."

Billy just stares at the man, now feeling nothing more than confused.

"Then who are you?"

"I'm a friend," Harley answers, and with that, Billy feels himself relax. "A friend, who, quite frankly, read what your powers are and would be thrilled to see them in action."

"Wait, in action? What do you mean by that?" Billy sits down on the couch so that he's still facing Harley.

Harley takes a moment before answering.

"SHIELD is wanting to put together a team of superpowered people, and you're on that list."

"I'm on that list?" Billy gapes at him, disbelieving. "Uh, are you sure?"

"As sure as I've ever been," Harley smirks, though Billy notices he quickly glances down at the paper to check.

"Oh, wow…" Billy says quietly, eyes wide. "Wait, is this happening—today?"

"Yeah, we're supposed to be regrouping tonight," Harley nods.

Billy's eyes drift over to the photo of him and his parents hanging on the wall.

"But my parents… they'll never let me go," Billy says, feeling a twinge of sadness.

"Don't worry about that, Fury and SHIELD will take care of giving your parents an excuse. Or altering their memories a tiny bit. Depends on the situation, I think."

"They can alter memories?"

"I'd be shocked if they can't," Harley grins. "But yeah—your parents will know you're safe and sound somewhere."

Billy ponders this for a moment before looking up at Harley to meet his eyes.

"I'm not a bad guy," Billy tells him. "And there are a lot of people like me—who have powers—who aren't bad people either. I… I want to help them."

"We all do," Harley says, getting serious for the first time. "That's the goal of this initiative—to help those people. I believe that with you on the team, we will have a chance at success."

"Then I'll do it," Billy smiles, standing up.

"That's exactly what I was hoping to hear," Harley says. "Go pack your bags—we're going to New York."

Billy doesn't think he's ever packed his bags faster than he does now, and they're out the door less than ten minutes. Before he leaves, he takes one last look at the picture of his parents. This is something he has to do. He has the opportunity and he's going to take it.

* * *

The file Fury gave Peter tells him not only where Kate Bishop lives, but the woods where she regularly practices shooting arrows. Peter doesn't exactly know how SHIELD gets so much information, but he's not complaining. It certainly makes for an easy trip, and these days, Peter cherishes anything "easy".

He walks through the woods, stepping over fallen branches and cutting through all of the thick undergrowth until he reaches a clearing. A few feet away from him stands a girl with jet black hair, wielding a bow and arrow.

Peter watches with his breath held as she draws the string back and let's go, sending the arrow hurtling through the air until it finds its way right on the target's bullseye.

Damn, she's good.

He's so mesmerized by her skill that he doesn't notice when she draws another arrow, loads it, and shoots it right in Peter's direction. His Spider-sense warns him just in time, and he just barely manages to dodge it. The arrow plants itself in the tree right next to Peter's head.

"Nice shot, Hawkeye," Peter eyes the arrow that had come mere inches to killing him on the spot.

"I'm not Hawkeye," she turns around to look at him. "Just a girl who has a perfect shot."

"I would argue that's what makes you Hawkeye," Peter says. Then, after a pause, he continues, "Are you Kate Bishop?"

Kate loads another arrow and shoots it.

"Yup," she says, popping the 'p'.

"I'm Peter Parker."

"I know."

"Wait… what?"

"I may not be Hawkeye, but I knew him," Kate turns back around to look at him, with a "duh" expression on her face. "He would mention Tony Stark's precious interns every once in a while."

"I didn't know Barton even knew my name," the feeling of giddiness he gets when he hears any of his heroes know him is unwelcome. "I didn't know him that well."

Kate just hums and shoots another arrow.

"But you did," Peter goes on. "He taught you, didn't he?"

"He did," Kate nods. "He was my mentor. He taught me and Lila both how to shoot, but Lila wasn't interested." She shoots another arrow at the target. Another bullseye. "I was."

She then hoists the bow over her shoulder and turns to face him. "Not that I'm not enjoying this conversation, but why exactly are you here?"

"I'm putting a team together to fight back against the things that are evil, and I could use a Hawkeye," Peter tells her.

"I'm not Hawkeye."

"Then I could use a Kate Bishop," Peter takes a step closer. "It's called the Young Avengers' Initiative."

"Hmm," she walks over to the target and pulls out all of the arrows. "You'd think Fury would have the sense to name it something else."

"Yeah, you'd think," Peter agrees, not even surprised at this point that the name is a dead giveaway for others that Nick Fury came up with it. "But you'd be a great addition to the team. Of course, regarding your parents, we would—"

"Sounds fun. I'm in."

Peter opens his mouth, closes it, tries to say something and nothing comes out.

"When do we leave?" Kate asks him, looking at him expectantly,

"Don't you—your parents—won't they—" Peter sputters.

"What, you think my rich parents and I are living in the middle of nowhere?" Kate laughs. "I'm at an all-girls' boarding school right now. Have been my entire school career. They won't even notice I'm gone."

"Well SHIELD can send them something—"

"That'll just be a waste of time. Wait here while I go grab my suitcase. I'll be back in ten," she drops her bow and arrow onto the ground next to Peter's feet, points to it, and gives him a look that clearly says guard this with your life. Then, she runs off into the woods.

Peter waits for thirty minutes before she shows up again, bags packed and ready to go, but he figures that not everyone can move with as much of a sense of urgency as Harley and himself. Sure, they miss the bus and have to wait an hour for the next one, but all in all, Peter counts this particular mission as a win.

* * *

The almost two-hour delay hadn't seemed like much in the grand scheme of things at the time, but Peter and Kate are the last ones back to the warehouse. When they enter, the first thing Kate does is turn her nose up and comment that her dad has "way better warehouses than this". The rest of the team is standing in the middle of the large room, chattering with each other. (Are they a team yet? What makes a team? Peter can't come up with an answer for that.)

The room falls silent, however, once Peter and Kate enter.

When Peter had been contemplating this very idea just days earlier, he'd been able to associate faces to names, so he recognizes everyone right away. Billy Kaplan is standing with his hands shoved into his pockets, wearily glancing around, clearly feeling slightly nervous. Teddy Altman, a blond-haired boy with quite a few muscles, looks a little more comfortable where he's standing, having been previously engaged in a conversation with Ned before they'd all noticed Peter walk in. Eli Bradley, the grandson of the first black supersoldier, is standing with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes on Peter, his eyebrows raised with what Peter can only perceive as curiosity.

They're all staring at him now, though—not just Eli, and Peter realizes that he should probably say something.

"Hi," he says, quite lamely, and he wants to kick himself. Clearing his throat, he continues his introduction. "My name is Peter Parker. You all were chosen to join the Young Avengers' Initiative—and for good reason, too. Each of you are incredibly talented, and I'd like to take advantage of that."

There's still nothing but blank stares.

"He's Spider-Man, FYI," Ned stage whispers to the group, and suddenly, four sets of eyes go wide as they continue to stare.

He doesn't think now is the time to tell them that Spider-Man has been locked away, replaced with something darker, both literally and metaphorically.

"Right," Peter nods, exchanging a knowing look with MJ, who is the only one in the room who knows about his costume trade-in.

"I thought you said we're ditching this place," Harley cuts in, and Peter has to suppress an eye roll at his friends' blatant impatience. "So where are we going? Another, slightly better warehouse? An abandoned Walmart?"

"Haha, Keener," Peter says, not a stranger to dealing with Harley's dripping sarcasm. "I know of somewhere that will tailor to our needs. It's about an hour away from here."

"Wait…" Harley frowns, all the sarcasm suddenly gone, replaced with a sort of apprehension. "You're don't mean…"

"Yes," Peter nods. "We just need a way to get there."

"Hold on, what?" Harley sputters, holding a hand up as if he's trying to physically stop Peter from moving on from the subject at hand. "You can't be serious. I thought we were trying to distance ourselves away from our predecessors, not become them."

Peter turns to look him directly in the eye, and although he can understand Harley's point, it's their best option.

"A building is just a building," Peter tells him, and though he believes his words, his stomach does twist a little. He ignores it.

"So, how are we going to get there?" Kate interjects, adjusting her grip on her bow and arrow case. "Take the bus?"

Peter can't say he's in love with that idea, but he's struggling to come up with something else. How do other superheroes get around? He guesses they usually have funding and big pieces of equipment—meanwhile, they're just a bunch of kids with nothing more than their powers.

Luckily for him, Billy steps forward.

"You know, um, I can teleport," Billy says, taking his hands out of his pockets and holding them out in front of him. "So we could try that?"

"Sounds safe," Eli mutters from the edge of their circle that they've made.

And yes, it doesn't sound like Billy is completely confident when it comes to wielding his powers, but despite that, Peter trusts him. He has learned in his eighteen years of living that trust is the path to success, and he wants nothing more than for Billy to be successful. So he steps towards the dark-haired boy, motioning for him to say more.

"All I would need is a picture or something like that, and I can will us to go there," Billy explains, seeming to gain confidence with every word he speaks.

Peter pulls his phone out of his pocket and, after a moment of searching, finds a picture and holds the phone out so Billy can see.

"Woah…" Billy breathes when he sees it. Then, regathering himself, he adjusts his stance and closes his eyes, holding his hands out.

"Is the bus option still on the table?" Harley asks quietly, biting his lip. Billy cracks an eye open, looking at Peter unsurely.

"Ignore him," Peter assures him. "You've got this."

Billy nods his head and closes his eye back up, and for a moment they're all standing in silence until Billy begins to chant.

"TeleporteveryoneinthisroomtoAvengersCompoundTeleporteveryoneinthisroomtoAvengersCompoundTeleporteveryoneinthisroomtoAvengersCompound—"

Peter grins as Billy's hands start to glow red, conjuring up the power as he continues to chant. The room is overpowered with red and in a flash… they're there.

They don't land inside Avengers Compound, but rather right on the hill which overlooks it. The red glow fades away, leaving everyone with stunned looks on their faces because it worked. After a quick headcount to confirm that everyone made it, Peter turns back to Billy.

"Nice work," Peter praises him with a soft smile, and Billy beams.

Birds chirp in the distance as the wind gently rustles the trees around them. Harley straightens up and takes a few steps forward, looking down at the building below.

"It looks… the same," the blond comments quietly, and Peter can't help but agree as he joins his friend in gazing at the now-abandoned Avengers' Compound. After two years of being locked up without a soul in sight, he'd expected it to look run down and drab, with dead grass and boarded up windows—but it doesn't. Yes, it's empty, but despite its lack of human upkeep, the grass is still as green as ever, and Avengers' Compound continues to stand tall with pride.

"Are you sure it's empty?" Teddy asks, studying the building with utmost caution.

Ned pulls out a tablet, and after a few taps on the screen, holds it up, allowing it to scan the compound.

"This should detect any forms of life," Ned explains as he continues to hold the tablet up. "And as far as I can tell… we're the only ones here."

"Ross made sure this place was shut down for good," Peter says. "No one has been here since they initially closed it down. They had bigger problems to deal with."

And with that, Peter starts to descend the hill, briefly motioning for everyone to follow him. However, he doesn't miss the exchange of glances between Harley, MJ, and Ned, and Peter realizes he's never spoken quite so specific about his time inside the government before just now. He doesn't comment on the exchange, though, because it would just draw more attention than it's worth.

Briefly, Peter thinks back to that last day at the compound, when he'd left in a flurry of frustration and disappointment, but he pushes that away.

Now isn't the time.

They reach the gates with the huge padlock, and MJ steps forward with a bobby-pin.

"There's no way that kind of lock can be picked with a bobby-pin," Harley states as he watches her.

MJ just gives him a look that says "we'll see about that", before turning back to the lock.

She gets the lock unlocked and the chains falling away two minutes later.

"That kind of lock has never met MJ," Ned grins as he begins to push open one of the gates. Peter and Harley together push open the other side, revealing the other side of Avengers Compound's front yard. As they continue to walk towards the building, Peter can hear several oos and ahs, many coming from Ned and the rest coming from the younger recruits. However, Peter makes sure to stay alert for trouble—the building gives him an eerie feeling.

It's way too quiet, with the only sounds coming from them and the nature around them. None of the hustle and bustle that used to be here, no cars and Quinjets moving in and out. It just feels so… wrong.

"It shouldn't be like this," Harley says quietly as if he can read Peter's mind. On the other side of him, MJ also seems to be moving with caution, her hand hovering over her gun holster.

Thankfully, they make it to the front door without a speck of danger in sight, and after MJ picks the lock on one of the front doors, sending them swinging open and revealing the inside of the compound.

The inside looks ten times more abandoned and still than the outside had. None of the lights are on, obviously, leaving them standing in a dark, dusty lobby. Everything looks the same but shrouded in darkness and defeat. It seems fitting, Peter thinks, based on what's happening to the world outside as well.

"Harley, you remember where the generator room is, right?" Peter asks, and Harley nods his head. "Great. You and Ned, go down there and get the place going again."

"On it," Ned grins, seeming excited about utilizing his skills.

"If we die down there, sell my story rights to Universal Studios," Harley says, as he makes his way towards the door that will take them down to the generator room. Ned follows, and once they're gone, Peter turns to the rest.

"There is a whole wing of unused guest bedrooms upstairs," Peter tells them. "We'll go up there and everyone can get unpacked and settled."

With that, he leads them to a flight of stairs, as the elevators aren't working yet, and takes them up eleven flights of stairs. It hits him, for a moment, that they're all following him without question or complaint—minus Harley, but that's just his personality. He hopes he won't let them down.

* * *

Harley and Ned manage to get the lights on and the elevators going in just twenty minutes, and soon they join them on the eleventh floor. Everyone has chosen a room and is settling in, so while no one is watching, Peter retreats to the elevator and steps inside. He presses the button for floor thirteen, and it rumbles as it starts to ascend, its gears a bit rusty from the years of not being used.

The doors open, and Peter steps out, taking a moment to look around.

The Avenger's private quarters looks just the same as it had when they'd all left it. The living room and kitchen still have empty mugs left out on the counters, and books and tablets laying around on the couches and tables. Stepping forward, Peter spots a sketchbook laying on one of the armchairs—most likely Steve's. Peter picks it up, flipping through the pages, and stops when he sees a beautiful sketch of the mountains, with the sun setting behind it.

How in the world could a sketch this beautiful and peaceful be drawn at the hands of evil?

With a sigh, Peter closes the sketchbook and sets it back down onto the chair, just like it was. He makes his way over to the hallway that had all of their rooms, and as he walks down the hallway, every nameplate on the door hurts more and more. Wilson, Rogers, Romanoff, Maximoff, Barton, Banner. Hell, even Thor has a room. As Peter makes his way further, he comes across Vison's door, and he can't help but chuckle at the memory of the android not understanding the concept of knocking. Then, he moves on to the room next to Vision's.

Parker.

The door is still cracked open, and he nudges it open, just so he can get a good look. It's a mess, just as he left it, with books, schoolwork, and clothes are strewn across the floor, the bed unmade. The wall is covered with Star Wars posters, and little Legos and knick-knacks are on the desk and set up on shelves.

The person who he'd been when he had stayed in this room feels so far away.

With one last look, Peter steps back out of the room, closing the door behind him. He walks away, back towards the elevator, and goes back to the eleventh floor, where he sees Harley and MJ chatting outside. When they see him, they stop talking and wait for him to approach.

"Where the hell have you been?" Harley asks, an eyebrow raised.

"Just taking a look around," Peter replies, doing his best to keep his face neutral, unwilling to let them know the number of unwelcome memories that are resurfacing. "Tell the others to meet in the main gym in an hour—suited up."

At that, Peter enters the guest room to his right, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Not having much to unpack, Peter ends up just sitting on the bed with plain white blankets and pillows, watching as the clock ticked closer and closer to the one hour mark that he had set. As it does, Peter can't get the fear of not being enough out of his head. Going upstairs had unlocked memories that he'd done his best to suppress.

"Son, you're just not ready for this sort of thing." Steve had said.

"Cap says you're not ready, so you're not ready." Tony had told him.

"Sir, Captain, please…"

"I'm sorry, Peter, but I can't let you go out there.

You're just too young, kid."

How can he be sure that he's still not the same kid he'd been back then?

Now there are only ten minutes left, and needing to get away, Peter leaves the room, going to the one place where he'd always felt safe, no matter what—Tony's lab. Just as everything else, the lab was untouched, the tools and other items still laying out on the counters. Peter takes a deep, shaky breath and sinks into Tony's desk chair, folding his arms on the table and putting his head down between them. The clock on the wall continues to tick until it's officially been an hour.

Ten minutes later, the lab door opens—and there's only one other person in this building who is authorized here.

"Parker, what the hell are you doing here?" Harley frowns, as Peter raises his head from the table. "You said one hour, right?"

"Yeah, I did," Peter nods.

"Okay well… everyone is waiting downstairs," Harley tells him, his voice getting less and less snippy as he senses that maybe not everything is alright. "So… why are you here?"

Before Peter can answer, MJ and Ned enter the lab after Harley, as the doors are still ajar.

"You found him," MJ states.

"Are you okay?" Ned asks, and when Harley and MJ both fall silent, Peter realizes that maybe that's the ultimate question they've all had on their minds.

"I just… maybe I'm not the guy to lead this team," Peter tells them slowly, trying not to let too much spill, but still give them a glimpse into what he's feeling. "Maybe it should be someone else."

"Someone else? Who would that even be?" Harley is looking at him like he's crazy.

"Kate?" Peter suggests with a tiny shrug. "Eli, maybe?"

"Peter, the only one of us with remotely any experience with this kind of thing is you," MJ says, stepping closer to him.

"Yeah, I got a lot of experience sitting on the sidelines," Peter scoffs.

"Oh my God," Harley groans. "Please tell me you're not still hung up over Captain America sending you home that one time."

"It wasn't just that one time," Peter argues, narrowing his eyes. "I was lucky if I ever got to go on those kinds of missions. Besides that, I spent years training with them, and all I was ever told is that I wasn't trying hard enough, or that I was too young to be one of them."

"So what?" Harley says, pressing a palm down on the table that Peter is sitting at. "What does that even matter?"

"It matters because… what if they were right?" Peter swallows thickly, looking down at his fingers in his lap. "What if I'm still not what I need to be?"

The lab is submerged in silence as Peter's words hang in the air.

"Maybe you're right," Harley breaks the silence, looking straight at Peter. "Maybe Captain America didn't think you were ready to be on his team."

Peter grits his teeth once Harley says that.

"But Captain America is gone," Harley continues, and Peter lifts his head a little. "And we're still here. We don't need the version of you that Captain America wanted—we need the version of you that you are right now."

Harley rarely gets as deep as he is now, but perhaps these last couple of years have tweaked their personalities in ways that they would all be discovering far down the line.

"So get up, dork, and go train those kids," MJ finishes for Harley, and Harley nods in agreement.

Surged by the pep talk, Peter nods and stands up.

"I have one more thing to do," he tells them. "Go downstairs, I'll be there in five."

"You'd better be there," MJ threatens, and they all start to leave.

"Harley, wait," Peter calls before his friend is out the door. Harley stops, confused. "I have something to show you."

Peter turns around and heads for a cabinet at the back, and opens it up, revealing a safe sitting on the shelf. Peter unlocks the safe with the code that he somehow remembers, and pulls out a red and gold watch. He turns around to face Harley.

"Harley, here's a Big Thing," Peter tells him with a smile, holding it out. Harley takes the watch, glancing at it before realization seems to hit him. "Project Iron Lad. Mr. Stark and I were working on it just before he… well, you know."

"Pete… I told you, I can't be Iron Man," Harley says quietly as he continues to study it. "I just… don't have it in me."

"You're not Iron Man," Peter tells him. "And actually, I think you do have it in you."

Harley frowns, turning the watch over in his hands. Then,

"Iron Lad is kinda a shitty name, don't you think?"

"I'll make sure to tell Mr. Stark that if I ever see him again," Peter laughs. "Let's go, we've kept everyone waiting long enough."

"Wait…" Harley says. "Was this his idea?"

Peter stops and turns to look at him.

"No," Peter says. "It was mine."

Harley just shakes his head and slips the watch on his wrist.

They're just about to get on the elevator to go downstairs before the Compound alarms start blaring.

"Intruders?" Harley suggests. They both start running towards the stairs, not enough time to take the elevator.

Peter can only hope that this isn't the beginning of the end.

* * *

When Peter and Harley make it down to the ground floor, the rest of the team is there, all suited up.

"Took you long enough," Kate comments. They both ignore her.

"Do we know who it is?" Peter asks Ned, who is furiously tapping on his tablet.

"I'm getting a heat signal—it's just one person, but I don't know who it is," Ned replies.

"Over there!" Eli points back towards the back of the large room. "I see a shadow."

Peter whips around and finds that he can see the shadow too. He holds out his hand, signaling for everyone to be quiet, creeping forward towards the shadow, who is hiding behind a lobby desk. Raising his arm that has a web shooter on it, he presses his fingers down and shoots.

"Hey!" A voice comes from behind the desk. "Ew…"

Is it just Peter, or does he recognize the voice?

He moves forward, peers behind the desk, and can't hide his surprise at who it is.

"Cassie?" Peter sputters, and the brown-haired girl crouching behind the desk seems just as surprised to see him too.

"Wait, Peter? What are you doing here?"

"I think we should be asking you that question," MJ tells her, coming up to stand next to Peter.

Cassie gets to her feet, no longer trying to hide now that she's been caught. Her hand is covered with spider webs. Everyone else comes up close, now curious to see who their intruder is.

"I'm, uh, just paying a visit?" Cassie tries, aware that she's probably not going to get away with her attempt to lie.

Peter just raises an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest.

"Fine. I'm here for my dad's gear," Cassie tells him. "I know it's here, and it technically belongs to me, so I want it back."

"Wait, who's your dad?" Harley questions.

"Scott Lang," Peter answers for her. "Aka Ant-Man."

"Woah, that's so cool," Ned breathes. Teddy mutters in agreement.

"Cassie, why do you even need your dad's stuff?" Peter asks her.

"To do superhero stuff," Cassie states. "Duh."

"That doesn't sound safe," Peter says. "You're fifteen years old, for God's sake."

"That's rich, coming from the guy who fought the Avengers at fourteen," Cassie bites back.

"She's got a point," MJ says quietly. Peter shoots her a look before turning his attention back to Cassie.

"What are you guys even doing here? I thought this place was abandoned," Cassie says, just as Peter was about to open his mouth.

"Not anymore. We're starting a team of superheroes," Ned tells her excitedly, but his smile fades as Peter turns around to glare at him.

"Cool!" Cassie grins. "Wait, can I join?"

"No way," Peter shakes his head.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I guess I'll just go grab my dad's stuff and go and be a superhero on my own," Cassie shrugs, turning around. "Though I would probably be a lot safer on your team, where you can keep an eye on me. But oh well."

Peter just sighs as he sees that everyone is looking at him expectantly. It's obvious that no matter what, Cassie is determined to wear her dad's suit. Not only that but having one more person on the team could be good—even if it's wide-eyed, eager Cassie Lang.

It hits him that she's exactly like he was when he was her age.

How can he tell her no?

"Fine, you can be on the team," Peter gives in, and Cassie turns back around, grin returned to her face. "Now, I believe we're late for training. Ned, can you turn the alarms off? The rest of you, to the gym."

As everyone makes their way towards the stairs and elevators, MJ and Peter walk side by side, following them to the training room.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to be ready?" MJ asks him, giving him a side glance. "A month? Two months?"

"Two weeks," Peter responds confidently, a smile on his face.

It won't be easy. It's going to be tough to shape them into a team, and it'll take a lot of trust. But as long as they're willing to work to be a team, Peter will work to be the leader they need him to be.

* * *

**So we are now halfway through! Let me tell you, I am so excited about this fic in particular. It's just a lot of fun for me to write.**

**Please let me know your thoughts! I'd love to hear them. Also, massive thanks to everyone who has commented so far, everyone is super nice and encouraging.**

**Until next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Here's chapter four! Strap in, it's the longest chapter yet, but I didn't have the heart to cut it short. So here it is in its unabridged glory. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Though New York is different—more violent and hostile than it once was, some parts still feel the same to Peter. As he moves across the rooftops, it gives him a thrill that he hadn't realized he'd missed. So much has changed, but there are enough similarities that when it comes down to it, it's still New York.

Sometimes he feels like maybe it's himself who has changed.

For one, he's changed his alias again. Dusk had been good for when he was a loner, but now that he's not exactly confining himself to the darkest shadows anymore, he decided to move on to something brighter—Ricochet. The suit is blue with silver gloves, mask, and a big silver 'R' on the torso, and there are gold Ricochet disks attached to his arms.

He'd tried to omit the silver 'R', feeling that it's too flashy, but Ned refused to budge while drawing up the initial design.

"Peter, Billy and I are in position," Teddy's voice says over the comm-link. "We're waiting for your signal."

Peter slows down just a little bit, able to spot his destination in the distance.

It's been six months since the formation of the Young Avengers, and after the initial month-long training, they'd been working on infiltrating every EIC center they can find. As it turns out, there are a lot of them, more than Peter ever thought there would be, because while prevalent, the percentage of the population who have powers or the like are in the minority. Some buildings are used for the scientific side of things, while others are where gifted people are being held.

This mission is just one of dozens that they're undertaking.

"Copy that," Peter replies as he continues to swing from building to building. "MJ, Cassie, where are you?"

"We're almost there," Cassie's voice says. "About thirty seconds out."

"MJ, what's SHIELD's status?"

"Depending on what we find, they'll be ready to help extract," MJ answers.

"Good. Make sure to keep them on speed dial," Peter tells her. "I have a feeling we'll need them on this one."

Seeing as the targeted building is smack dab in the middle of upper Manhattan, they're coming at the building from different angles so they surround it. These kinds of missions have become routine by now, enough so that Peter can breathe just a little bit easier each time he sends his team out on them. They've proven themselves time and time again, and honestly, Peter couldn't be prouder of how hard they've been working. Sure, they've had hiccups—every team does—but there is a consensus that what they're doing is necessary for making rights.

Not to mention, it's nice to have people to talk to again.

Peter reaches the edge of the building right next to the targeted building, crouching down as to not make himself as visible. Right away he scopes out two entrances—the main door, and a door on the side of the building. It's a fairly large building, so big that Peter can just barely see Teddy and Billy on the roof of the building on the opposite side of him. He can't, however, see Cassie and MJ, but he trusts that they'll make it in safely.

"We're in position," MJ informs. "I'm working on disabling cameras—they should be down in a minute."

"Awesome. Now everyone remember that the goal is to stay out of sight for as long as possible," Peter reminds them. "The longer the better. Oh—and remember the buddy system. Make sure to stay in sight of your partner at all times. Capiche?"

"You don't have a buddy, Peter," Cassie points out.

"Peter thinks he's the only one good enough to not need a buddy," MJ tells her before Peter can say anything.

"I do not," Peter rolls his eyes. "There's only five of us, and if there's going to be an odd man out, I'd rather it be me."

"Whatever you say," MJ says. "Cameras are down."

"Alright, that means go-time, team," Peter pulls his focus back to the mission. After he hears a chorus of affirmatives from the others, Peter jumps from the roof, using the stickiness of his limbs to catch himself on the side building. He then quickly climbs down to the ground, sweeping his eyes over his surroundings before approaching the side door.

"Karen, is there anyone behind the door?" Peter quietly asks his AI.

After almost three years without her, Peter had finally decided to reinstall Karen into his newest suit. Though at first, she did constantly remind him of when he'd been Spider-Man, he's come to stop associating her with that part of his life. It's nice, to have someone there to assist him. She's gotten him out of many rough spots.

"My scanners aren't detecting anyone behind the door," Karen reports after a moment. "It should be safe to go in."

Peter opens the door, thanking whoever is out there for the door being unlocked. He's met with a long, white and sterile hallway with multiple doors on each side. Peter starts to make his way down the hallway cautiously, peering in the windows of the doors to see if there's anything to find.

There's no one. The hallway is eerily quiet, and Peter can't determine if that's a good or a bad thing yet. Just to be on the safe side, though, he jumps up and sticks onto the ceiling, continuing to move down the hallway.

"Did everyone make it inside?" Peter questions the group using a hushed voice.

"Yeah, but we haven't seen anyone yet," Billy states.

"Neither have we," Cassie remarks. "Maybe everyone's on vacation?"

Somehow, Peter doubts that.

The comm-link falls silent once again as they all investigate their respective ends of the building. After peering into a few more windows, Peter is pretty sure that this is a building used for science, as different science tools are sitting on the counters. Still, that doesn't mean that there's no chance of captives being held here, so Peter makes no move to stop the mission.

"Maybe the EIC is just really understaffed," Teddy suggests after a few minutes. "This is government-sanctioned, right?"

That's the answer Peter is leaning towards—even back at the main center where Ross is, there was not a huge amount of staff. Just enough people to get the jobs done. However, in the last few centers they've gone through, there were more people, but maybe it varies per location.

It takes a few more minutes of walking, but he finally hears voices coming behind one of the doors. Flipping back down onto the floor, Peter stands outside the door with his back to the wall, slipping a gold disc into each of his hands. He gears up and throws all of his weight onto the door, breaking it down onto the ground. It's a pretty breakable door—as Teddy said, this place is government-sanctioned.

Two men, both in white lab coats whip around, their eyes widening once they see who it is.

"Shit, they're here," the first scientist, an older man with a bald head hisses. The second scientist tries lunging over to the red distress button on the wall, but Peter shoots his discs at each of them, hitting them and sending them crashing into the white wall behind them. They both bounce back quickly, trying to get to their feet, but Peter makes sure to web them up, immobilizing them.

"Did you guys know that your doors are unlocked?" Peter inquires, "Because for people who don't want unwelcome intruders you do seem to have shitty security."

Neither of the men say anything, so Peter decides to take a brief look around. He spots one of their keycards and swipes it up, pocketing—it very well could come in handy later.

"How many people do you have here?" Peter continues to press, shuffling through papers to see if he can find anything of note.

"I don't think that's any of your business," the bald scientist smugly says.

"Like hell, it's not my business," Peter retorts, turning around to glare at them. "And like it or not, we will find them and release them. Maybe next time, lock the front door."

Peter starts to leave, seeing nothing of use.

"You're doing these people a disservice, letting them go," the second scientist vows.

"We'll see about that," Peter says before stepping out of the room and shutting the door, webbing the knob up so that they can't leave until it dissolves in a few hours. "There are most likely captives here," he states over the comms. "If this building is anything like the others, they'll likely be on the lower floors, so everyone start heading that way."

The next three floors down are all the same as the first. Pretty much empty, save for a few scientists here and there. Peter manages to web them all up with ease—not to push stereotypes, but none of them seem to be able to match Peter's agility or strength even a little bit. Sure, he has powers, but he makes it down to the third floor down without as much as a scratch on him.

He hopes it's the same way for the others.

The further down Peter goes, the colder it gets. The pure white walls don't help the atmosphere—in fact, they lend a hand towards the eerie, evil vibes that Peter is getting. Once he reaches the bottom of the flight of stairs that leads to the next floor down, Peter is greeted with nothing but a door. Wiggling the handle, he finds that this one seems to be locked.

Peter rolls his eyes—so this one they lock? He notices a keycard scanner and fishes it out of his jacket pocket, swiping it across the keypad. The light flashes green and there's a click, signaling that the door is now unlocked. Peter opens the door, and as luck would have it, he finds exactly what he's looking for.

About twenty glass cells are spanning the walls on each side. In some of the cells, Peter can see curious faces, looking to see who it is, nervous expressions on almost all of them. It makes him sick, to say the least. This is the part that no matter how many times he sees it, it always sets something off inside of him.

"MJ, dial Hill," Peter says quietly into his comm. "I found them—there's about thirty or so of them, three floors down from ground level."

"We're heading your way, Peter," Teddy declares as Peter takes a chair that's nearby and sets it in front of the door, propping it open. Peter walks down the middle of the room, towards the computer controls. About halfway, he spots a young girl cowering in her cell, and he stops in his tracks.

"We're gonna get you out of here, okay?" Peter whispers. Though she continues to shake, she nods her head.

"The SHIELD extraction team is five minutes out," MJ announces.

"I'm working on getting the cells open," Peter tells her as he reaches the computer. He begins to type onto the keyboard, trying to gain access to the system. Sure, he's no Ned Leeds, but Peter knows a thing or two about hacking. By the time he gets in and can unlock the cell doors, Billy and Teddy, have made it down, followed by Cassie a few seconds later.

Teddy is wearing his black and purple Hulkling suit, his skin a tint of green as his muscles are larger than usual. Billy's red cape waves behind him as he floats in the air, his hands glowing for a moment while he studies the room, only to touch the ground again when he sees there's no immediate danger. Cassie is donning her red and black suit, still normal sized, and her brown hair is pulled into a messy ponytail.

Peter crosses his arms and raises in eyebrow at his youngest teammate.

"MJ's meeting with Hill," Cassie tells Peter, apparently one step ahead of him. "So I am not violating the buddy system."

"Fine, but you're treading on thin ice with this one," Peter warns. "Billy and Cassie, start taking people upstairs. Teddy, you and I will stay down here and make sure there are no hiccups."

Slowly but surely, the captives follow Cassie up the stairs, Billy following, taking the hand of the young girl that Peter had spoken to just minutes ago. Peter and Teddy walk around, making sure that each person is alright before sending them upstairs.

"Damn, Billy," Peter hears Teddy say just about two minutes later. "How'd you get back downstairs so fast?"

Peter turns around to see Teddy talking to Billy who… is now in regular civilian clothes.

"Uh… what's with the costume change?" Peter asks, noticing that his hair is now silver, as opposed to Billy's usual jet black color.

Billy, however, looks very confused, and Peter feels a twinge of worry in his gut.

"Are you guys… talking to me?" Billy questions, pointing at himself.

"Well, duh," Teddy affirms, scratching his head. "Who else would I be talking to?"

Suddenly, a thought hits Peter. Could it be…—

"Hey, Peter, how many do we have left?" Peter turns his head to see… Billy, coming down the stairs in his usual Wiccan costume. Peter turns his head to look at… the other Billy? Is this a weird trick?

"Okay," Teddy sputters, looking between the two of them. "Uh, why are there two Billy's?"

"'Two Billy's'? What does tha—oh… " Billy finally notices his near doppelganger standing in the middle of the now nearly empty room.

"My name is Tommy. Tommy Shepherd," silver-haired Billy says. "And… why do you look just like me?"

"You guys look so alike, you could be… twins," Teddy tells them.

Before anyone can say anything else, a siren starts to blare, signaling to Peter that it's time to get the hell out of dodge.

"C'mon, we can continue this conversation later," Peter says, seeming to be the only one who has snapped out of his shocked state. One by one they all come out of it too, and Peter leads them up the stairs as quickly as possible. On their way they meet Cassie, who is, for some godforsaken reason, going down the stairs instead of up. "Cassie, let's go."

Cassie stops in her tracks but makes no move to start going back up the stairs.

"We can't leave yet," Cassie protests, "we still haven't made sure there's nobody else here!"

Peter glances up at Billy, Teddy, and Tommy, who have all paused to wait for them.

"You three, go," Peter orders, and although they seem skeptical, they do as he says and disappear up the stairs. Peter turns back to Cassie, desperate to make her listen. "Cassie, it's too dangerous to look any further. We have to go so come on."

"I'm not leaving until we're sure this place is empty," with that, Cassie continues to descend the staircase, leaving a swearing Peter to follow after her. He knows what she's so desperate to find, and while he understands completely, he also is aware of the immediate danger that they're both in. Peter can hear footsteps on the stairs above, getting closer to where they are.

Peter follows Cassie to the fourth floor below ground level, and just like the floor above, they're met with a locked door. They also find that there are no more stairs to go down, signifying that they've hit the lowest floor. Peter pulls out the stolen keycard, figuring that the sooner Cassie sees the inside of the locked room, the sooner they can get out of here.

"Peter, Cassie, where the hell are you guys?" MJ's perplexed voice questions through the comms.

Cassie opens the door excitedly, only to find… nothing.

The room is empty.

"We're just about to come back up," Peter answers MJ. However, with the number of Ross's soldiers that are currently coming down the stairs, Peter is starting to worry that they may not make it back. By now they've caught up to them, guns out, and Peter gets into a fighting stance, letting two more gold discs slip into each hand.

"Gotchya," one of the guys smirks. Peter recognizes him as Ross's right-hand man, Charles Nelson.

Nelson raises his gun and points it straight at Cassie, and to Peter's horror, pulls the trigger. The bullet fires towards Cassie, but in a blink of an eye, a flash of white zips down the stairs. Suddenly, Cassie is gone, and the bullet hits the wall, lodging itself in the painted concrete.

They all turn their heads to see a flustered Cassie, three feet away from where she originally was, and a smug-looking Tommy standing next to her.

It doesn't take Peter long to deduce that Tommy has super speed.

"Thanks," Cassie breathes, obviously still in shock. Tommy just nods in response.

"So are you guys gonna part ways?" Peter asks Nelson and the rest of his squad, "or are we gonna have to do through you?"

"I'd like to see you try," Nelson grins.

Well, he asked for it.

Peter jumps into the air, sending his discs flying into the air, hitting four guys and sending them crashing to the ground. As he lands on his feet, he notices that there's yelling above him, along with bursts of familiar red light. Tommy races up the stairs, knocking down soldiers like bowling pins, and Peter and Cassie follow, making sure that the soldiers are knocked out or immobilized. The next flight up, Peter sees Teddy, in full Hulkling form, punching soldiers, and Wiccan, who's suspended a few inches in the air, using his telekinesis powers to send the soldiers that Teddy misses tumbling down.

"Keep making your way up," Peter calls out to them as he and Cassie pass them. As they get closer to the ground floor, more soldiers are laying on the ground, unmoving—Tommy's work. Suddenly, however, a soldier comes out of nowhere and barrels into them, causing both Peter and Cassie to fall onto the steps. Peter hits his head on the railing and a flash of pain shoots through him, having to bite down to keep himself from yelping. The soldier, making use of this, points his gun at him, but just as Peter gets ready to lunge at him, something hits the soldier from behind, stunning him and sending him downwards.

In his place is an exasperated looking MJ, her Icer held out in front of her person.

"You could have told me you were planning to fight this one out," MJ accuses him. Peter sighs, standing up. He rubs his head where he'd hit it and reaches down, to take Cassie's hand, pulling her up.

"I wasn't planning on it at all," Peter objects. He doesn't miss the way that Cassie cringes at his words. "Is the upstairs clear?"

"Pretty much," MJ nods, as Peter gestures for Teddy and Billy to follow them up. "The fast guy with the silver hair took them all out."

"Hey, did you notice that he looks a lot like—" Cassie starts.

"Billy? Yeah, I did. I've already put it down on the list of mysteries to solve," Peter tells them. They reach the top of the stairs, where Tommy is waiting for them, leaning against the wall.

"Took you guys long enough," Tommy smirks.

Peter ignores the jab, following MJ down the hallway and out the side door. In the shadows of the alleyway stands the one and only Maria Hill, a woman who Peter is almost always happy to see. Tommy, Teddy, Billy, and Cassie exit the building as well, coming up to standing behind him.

"I've seen smoother extractions from you, Parker," Hill comments, "but still a job well done."

"Thanks for coming," Peter gives her a half-smile. "SHIELD having our backs helps us."

"Yeah, well, I think Fury wants to be more hands-on this time around," Hill tells him.

Peter can understand that. After his last project went under so badly, it's only natural to think that Fury wants to prevent this team from turning their backs on the world. Nevertheless, no matter what the reason is, he's grateful for their help.

"Did everyone get out?" MJ asks her, glancing around at the primarily empty street.

"They're all on a truck headed to the refuge," Hill responds. She's always been a no-nonsense woman, focused on nothing but getting the job done. Peter admires her for it.

"Would you mind giving us a ride there?" Peter requests, and she gives him a small smile.

"Sure thing. I have the car parked a little further down the alley."

Hill leads them down the alleyway until they come across a big black car with the SHIELD logo on it. Hill gets in the driver's seat, and MJ gets into the front passenger seat, leaving the rest to pile into the back two seats. Teddy and Billy climb into the very back together, while Peter, Cassie, and Tommy get into the middle row, with Cassie sitting in the middle as she's the smallest. As they drive off, Peter doesn't miss the way that Teddy and Billy seem to scoot into each other slightly while they talk in low voices.

Peter settles in—it's going to be a long drive.

* * *

About an hour east of Avengers' Compound sits the new SHIELD refuge center for people who are either rescued from or are being hunted down by the EIC. It's a fairly large building, not quite as big as the Compound, but it has enough room for what it's needed for. Here, people can seek protection, as well as get new identities for starting new lives.

Peter didn't know it at the time, but Fury had been working on getting the building constructed even before he'd talked to Peter that one night six months ago. Of course, Fury had had enough confidence that Peter would say yes to his proposal for the Young Avengers, and Peter can't decide just yet if the man is a genius or a lunatic.

Once they arrive at the refuge building, Hill disappears—after all, the grind never stops for a busy woman such as herself. Peter, with his mask off, leads the rest of his team, including Tommy who has stuck with them at this point, through the refuge, navigating the large building with ease. This is not the first time they've been here.

"Hey, you guys were supposed to be back half an hour ago!" Peter stops and turns to see Harley approaching them quickly, with Eli and Kate in tow. "What gives?"

While Peter and his half of the team had been on the mission, Harley and the rest had come to the refuge to help out and talk to people, to see if they could find any information at all. Usually, they find nothing, but it's still worth a check.

"Things at the EIC took longer than we thought," Peter explains. "Also, the traffic was bad."

"Sounds more productive than what we did today," Eli admits.

"Yeah, no one had anything to offer," Harley confirms. Then, narrowing his eyes, he looks past Peter, his eyes flicking back and forth between Billy and Tommy. "Wait, you guys are seeing two of them too, right?"

"Yup," Peter nods, glancing back at them. Billy seems a bit uncomfortable, while Tommy just looks bored. "Speaking of that, where's Ned?"

"In his office. Did you know he has his own office?"

"That's what happens when you work for SHIELD," MJ rolls her eyes. "I have one too."

"Alright," Peter says, sweeping his eyes across everyone. "MJ, let's go find Ned. I'd like to get out of here in about…" Peter checks his watch real quick before continuing, "thirty minutes. Kate, can you get the Quinjet up and ready to go by then?" Kate nods her head yes. "Great. Everyone else, start wrapping up here and we'll meet there in half an hour. Sound good?"

After hearing a chorus of yes's, the team breaks—Harley and Eli go back down the hallway they were originally in, while Teddy, Billy, and Cassie follow Kate to help her get the Quinjet ready to fly. The only person left is Tommy, who now is fidgeting awkwardly, unsure what to do. Though MJ starts walking, Peter stays, knowing that it's his job to find some sense in this situation.

"Do you have family, Tommy?" Peter asks him. MJ pauses and turns around to listen to the conversation.

"Not any that I wanna go back to anytime soon," Tommy shrugs. A small piece of Peter's heart breaks, because he can't imagine not ever wanting to see May again. He misses her… so much.

She'll be the first person he sees once this is all over.

If it's ever over.

"Well," Peter starts, trying to think of what to do. "If you want, you can come back to Avengers' Compound with us. There're plenty of rooms. Obviously, there's a connection between you and Billy, so if you stay we can try and figure out what that connection is."

"Okay. Yeah, I'd like that," Tommy accepts, a small smile on his lips, and Peter thinks that's the most genuine expression he's seen from the silver-haired boy today. "Thanks."

"Go find Kate," Peter tells him. "I'm sure she'd appreciate another helping hand."

With one last nod, Tommy zips away in a blink of an eye.

Peter's sure he's already caught up with them.

With that taken care of, MJ and Peter start walking towards Ned's office. Peter finds that he enjoys it when it's just the two of them, although it rarely happens. She manages to remind him of a part of himself that he doesn't mind holding on to.

"So, is that your way of trying to recruit him?" MJ asks him as they walk.

"No," Peter answers honestly. "I just want to give him a place to stay."

"He'd be a great asset," MJ says, her thick ponytail swinging as she moves. "But do you think he's a team player?"

"I don't know. First, I just want to figure out who he is," Peter responds because he's almost certain that there's something about him that connects him to something big. Deep down, Peter knows that there's more to the story than twins separated by adoption.

Ned is typing on his computer when Peter and MJ enter his office. It's a nice office—Peter can see why Harley would feel jealous. The desk is big, there's a couch against the wall and the desk chair looks comfortable. He has multiple computer monitors on his desk, each one probably used for a different function.

"Hey, how'd the mission go?" Ned asks with a grin when he sees them. Even after all this time, Ned still gets giddy at any mention of superhero stuff.

"Could have been better, but no one died," MJ shrugs taking a seat on the couch.

"Sounds like a success to me," Ned insists, always one for optimism.

"I need you to pull up everything you can find on Thomas Shephard," Peter requests, sitting on the edge of Ned's desk while his friend turns back to his computer. It only takes Ned two minutes to find everything.

"Okay, here's something," Ned starts, "He was raised in Springfield, New Jersey, born to Frank and Mary Shephard… oh here's something: a few months ago he was imprisoned for accidentally… vaporizing his school? Am I reading this right?"

Peter frowns, leaning in to read the words himself to confirm that Ned isn't, in fact, going crazy.

"They transferred him to the EIC to rid him of his powers," Peter finishes. "Does he have any adoption records?"

"Oh, so we're just gonna… skip over the whole vaporizing his school thing… okay," Ned says with his eyebrows raised, clicking through Tommy's file. "Nope. No adoption records. Though… don't you think he looks a lot like Billy?"

"Yeah, that's what we're trying to figure out. Does Billy have any adoption records?"

Another minute of searching only leads them to another "no".

"How is that possible?" MJ inquires, leaning forward on the couch. "If they're twins, one of them has to be adopted. Unless…"

Peter and Ned both turn their attention to MJ, who is frowning thoughtfully.

"Unless what?" Ned prods.

"Both of their powers feel very familiar," MJ slowly says. "Like I've seen them before."

And then it starts to click inside Peter's brain. His mind flashes back to a day before any of this had happened when Peter was still training with the Avengers. He remembers standing in that training room, with Steve and Natasha overseeing, his opponent getting into a fighting stance before conjuring up red magic in her hands—

"Wanda," Peter says suddenly. "Billy's powers are close to Scarlet Witch's."

Ned's face brightens with a revelation.

"And Tommy has super speed, right?" Ned adds, "Didn't Scarlet Witch have a brother with that same power? Quicksilver!"

"But… again, if there are no adoption papers… how can they be related?" Peter frowns. At that, all three of them sit in silence, pondering the answer to Peter's question.

Peter checks his watch and realizes they're coming close to half an hour being up. Figuring they should get going, MJ and Peter wait for Ned to lock up his office before all three of them head down for the landing pad where the others will be. All the while, Peter can't get Wanda out of his head.

* * *

Peter has to admit, the first time Kate had insisted on flying them all in the Quinjet, he'd been pretty alarmed. After all, there's a difference between trusting someone and trusting his gut. Thankfully, he'd gone against his gut, going on to find out that apparently, Clint Barton had taught her the basics of operating one a Quinjet and, as an extension, how to fly it.

"Mentor of the year," Harley had muttered when she'd explained this to everyone, and Peter does have to admire the amount of commitment Barton had towards training his protege. Not to mention it's an extremely helpful skill for the team.

The sun is just starting to set when they're flying home, and when Peter glances around, he sees that the majority of his team is asleep. Eli, Teddy, and Billy are strapped into the seats along the side of the jet, and if Teddy knows that Billy's head is resting on his shoulder then he has yet to say anything. Ned is sitting a couple of seats down, playing a computer game on his laptop, with MJ watching curiously over his shoulder. Tommy is sitting by the window, looking out at the moving clouds in the distance, and Harley is laying sprawled out on the floor of the jet—clearly, there are no shits given there, as per usual with him.

Peter can't help but chuckle fondly—they've all been working hard, and it's showing.

At the other far end of the jet, however, sits a sullen-looking Cassie, sitting on the ground with her knees drawn up to her chest. With a sigh, Peter walks over to where she's sitting, sliding down onto the ground next to her. She glances up at him before looking back down at her shoes.

"I know what you're gonna say," Cassie says quietly. "So can you save me the lecture this time?"

"Oh really?" Peter looks down at her with a raised brow, patiently waiting for her to meet his eyes. "What was I going to say?"

"Something along the lines of "you need to slow down and listen better" and "the things we want won't come at first, these things take a while, yadda yadda yadda."

Peter just chuckles and rolls his head back so he's looking up at the ceiling of the jet. If he's being truthful, she hit it right on the nail. During the last six months, Cassie has proved to be the hardest to get through to—not just because she's the youngest on the team, but she's crazy stubborn, and that ultimately means a lot of lectures.

"Alright, I'll spare you, but just this once," Peter compromises. She seems to relax just a tiny bit when he says that. They fall silent, and Peter tries to search for the right words to say. "Cass, I… I know it's hard. It sucks, not knowing what happened, and why it happened."

He glances back down at her, and seeing no change in her expression, he realizes that maybe he's going to have to be honest with her—maybe a little more honest than he would prefer.

"I would give anything to know what happened to them," he says softly. "And if—if they did… do what everyone else says they did, I would do anything to know why."

"My dad didn't do anything wrong," Cassie suddenly bursts, and for the first time she looks up at him, her eyes welling up with tears. "They—they all say that he turned on San Francisco and started hurting all those people, but he wouldn't do that. I know he wouldn't."

Peter just nods, waiting for her to finish. Something inside of him twists because she's saying everything that Peter has felt for the longest time—since the day it happened. But yet… they have no proof that can prove the Avengers' innocence.

"I remember watching it happen, on TV, and my mom and stepdad were watching too, and—they didn't look surprised at all," Cassie continues, her voice lowering to nothing more than a whisper. "Like they'd expected him to do this all along—but he didn't . I just… I have to find him. I have to."

"I know," Peter swallows, not willing to face the truth that Scott Lang, along with all of the rest, may not even be alive. "But Cassie, I can tell you that above anything, your dad would want you to be safe. And we can't keep you safe if you're always running from us."

"I know, and… I'm sorry. I'll try to be better."

Peter puts an arm around her and pulls her in for a side hug, squeezing her shoulder assuredly.

"Cassie, I can't promise that we'll find him," Peter says, "But we will at least find out the truth eventually. I promise."

For the rest of the flight, they sit there in silence, staring at the wall in front of them, both lost in thought. Although it's been there since the moment he'd woken up at sixteen in Ross's shackles, the urge to find the truth grows stronger after his conversation with Cassie. Maybe then they all could sleep better at night.

* * *

Peter knows he should go to sleep, but his mind refuses to shut down—after all, there's way too much to think about. It's later that night, and everyone has disappeared into their rooms, but Peter just doesn't feel like staring at his blank gray wall all night. So he decides to go to the one place that he always goes when he has a night like this—Tony's lab.

When he gets there, he sees that the lights are already on. Peter pushes the door open, and after a second of looking around, finds Harley sitting at one of the workstations, a Coke in his hands. He guesses his friend had the same idea as him.

"Come to join me?" Harley asks, half a smirk on his face. Peter returns the smile and reaches into the fridge, grabbing his own Coke and cracking it open, taking a sip of it before sitting at the workstation right across from Harley.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you," Peter begins, "did you ever get around to building that robot? The one we talked about in the coffee shop?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I didn't," Harley says with a laugh as the memories are brought back. "I didn't want to build it without you. And besides… there wasn't a need for it anymore. The mentor annoying machine can't work without a mentor to annoy."

At those words, the laughter fades away, left with something that hurts. Harley looks down at his Coke, fiddling with it before taking a drink. Then, he looks back up, out the window at the trees below—though it's almost too dark to see anything. It's alright, Peter thinks, to know something's there, even if you can't see it.

"God, I miss him," Harley murmurs.

Peter hums in agreement.

"And you know, I think it sucks that nobody looked too much into it," Harley continues, leaning back in his chair. "Because the whole thing just doesn't make sense. Why would they just, out of the blue, attack New York?"

"Maybe it wasn't out of the blue," Peter suggests, though not a single part of him believes that.

"Yeah, that sounds plausible," Harley's voice is dripping with sarcasm. "The Avengers had a diabolical plan to destroy a chunk of New York and then disappear forever," Harley shakes his head, using his hand to swish around the liquid in the Coke can. "That just doesn't match up with any of their personalities. I know we've always liked to talk shit about Cap, but he wasn't evil. Far from it, actually."

Usually, no one brings up the Avengers—everyone mostly believes it's taboo—so it's rare Peter ponders what happened. Not to mention that there's so much going on, so many people to save, that it's easy for their predecessors to slip through the cracks of their minds. Peter often finds himself trying to block things out because the more he thinks about it, the more emotional he gets. In his field of work, emotions can be dangerous when brought up at the wrong times.

"And damn, the EIC program is suspicious as hell," Harley continues, and that catches Peter's attention.

"How so?" Peter inquires, eager to hear his friend's thoughts on the matter.

"It was instituted like, three days after the Avengers disappeared, right?" Harley starts, "well if I know anything from the very little I paid attention to in high school government, I know that things that big don't happen in three days."

Peter feels his eyes start to widen as he processes what that means.

"It's almost like it was planned before the Avengers even attacked," Harley finishes, taking a sip of his Coke. Then, he shrugs. "I dunno, it's just weird, is all."

But the wheels in Peter's head are already turning a mile per minute. Even after Harley finishes his Coke and calls it a night, leaving the lab, Peter can't stop thinking about what Harley had said. It's almost like it was planned before the Avengers even attacked.

That could just mean that the government had just been waiting for the right moment to introduce the EIC, and the Avengers attacking New York could've been the right moment they'd been waiting for. Peter groans and sets his head down on the cool concrete desk, wracking his brain for anything that can help him at all. He thinks back to that very day when he'd been training with Natasha and Steve, trying to pinpoint something that could have given a clue that whatever the hell was going to happen.

He can't come up with anything. That day had been as normal as any other day at Avengers Compound. Peter sighs, standing up and tossing his empty Coke can into the trash. Ready to follow Harley and go to bed, suddenly, he remembers something that someone had said in that last meeting the Avengers had, talking about their upcoming mission.

"Can't the FBI handle it?"

"Secretary Ross has specifically requested that we go and check it out."

The "it" ended up being their attack and disappearance.

That's all the evidence Peter needs to convince himself that the government had to have something to do with their disappearance. Problem is, he doesn't know what. He needs more information, he needs—

The main EIC building.

The heavily guarded building which Secretary Ross has an office in.

Peter's going in.

Right now. Really, he knows that he should wait until tomorrow, and have the whole team go with him, but something is advising him against that. He remembers Cassie's tear-filled eyes earlier on the jet, and the way Harley had been looking wistfully around Tony's lab, both of them hoping that the one they've lost will come back. He thinks of all the times Kate has spoken fondly of her old mentor, and the one time Eli told him that he'd love to meet Captain America, just to see if he's lived up to what Patriot should be.

He doesn't want to get their hopes up, only for them to crash if they don't find anything at all.

It's probably a stupid, irrational decision, but Peter's already made up his mind—he's going tonight, and hopefully, he'll be back before any of them wake up for training in the morning.

After a quick stop to his room to put on his Ricochet suit, putting the silver mask over his face, counting each gold disc to make sure he has all of them, he heads downstairs to where Tony's garage is. He gets down to the ground floor and starts walking towards the door that leads out to the garage with all of Tony's cars.

"Where are you going?"

Peter starts and spins around to see MJ standing a few feet behind him, her arms crossed. She's fully dressed with her weapons, and all Peter can think is she's good.

"Uh, I'm just going for a drive," Peter tries, but the moment the words leave his mouth he knows it's no use lying.

"In full gear? Yeah right. Where are you going?"

Peter sighs, pulling the mask off of his face.

"I have possible intel on what might have happened to the Avengers," Peter tells her, and for once, MJ looks surprised. "I'm going to look into it."

"And you're not bringing the rest of the team… why?" MJ presses after a moment.

For some reason, Peter doesn't mind telling her the truth. He trusts her. He has always trusted her, more than anyone else in the world.

"I don't want to get their hopes up, just in case I don't find anything," Peter admits, "and it's highly likely I won't. But I… I just have to check to make sure."

MJ nods understandingly.

"Okay. But I'm coming with you," MJ tells him, closing the gap between them. "Because let me tell you, you getting killed won't do anything for their hopes and dreams either."

Peter doesn't even argue as she leads him out to the garage and picks out the least expensive-looking car, getting in the passenger seat and looking at him expectantly. Sure, he would have preferred to go alone. But if he has to bring someone along, he sure as hell is glad it's MJ.

* * *

With MJ there and the lack of distractions from the rest of the team, they manage to get into the main EIC building quickly and undetected. They work like a well-oiled machine, moving from one step to the next, communicating without needing to use words. They do have the advantage of it being the middle of the night, so the only people here are security guards and the people they're probably keeping captive. Peter itches to find and free them, but that's not for today.

Besides, Peter realized on the drive here that to prevent more buildings from springing up, they have to find a way to cut everything off at the source—the source being possible information that could clear the Avengers' names, therefore proving that the EIC program is unnecessary and evil.

Peter remembers this place like the back of his hand, and as they make their way up towards where Ross's office is, he's disturbed by all of the horrible memories he has from his years spent here. He's tried so hard to block it all out, but if there's one thing Peter's learned over the past two and a half years, it's that the memories you want to block out usually are the ones that stay with you forever. He keeps moving, his guard up—who knows what kind of security measures they've installed by now.

Luckily, they make it up to Ross's office without any problems, and after MJ picks the lock to the office, they're in, closing and locking the door behind them. Peter makes a beeline to the computer and is met with a password screen. Just out of curiosity, Peter types in Ross's old password—his birthday—and to his surprise, it unlocks just like that.

"Wait, how'd you get in so fast?" MJ frowns, looking over his shoulder.

"When you spend enough time around someone over two years, you learn their computer password," Peter explains. "I'm just surprised he didn't change it after I left. Anyways, I'll search his computer—why don't you go through his filing cabinets?"

They get to work, quickly looking for anything that could provide a clue. Peter shuffles through many government documents, many talking about the EIC program, but none mentioning the Avengers' at all. There's absolutely nothing, and Peter even starts to think that the government had nothing to do with the Avengers' disappearance.

Just when Peter is about ready to call it quits, MJ finds something.

"Take a look at this," she says, shoving a piece of paper in front of him. Peter picks it up and starts to read it.

Secretary, we have been giving it a lot of thought, and we have finally approved your request to build three high-security stasis prisons, located at **[REDACTED] **, **[REDACTED] **, and **[REDACTED] **. These will be built alongside the other Enhanced Individual Correction detention centers, but of course, these will only be utilized for high profile cases. We do hope we never have to use them, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Thank you for the work you do to keep our country safe. Sincerely, **[REDACTED] **.

"Damn," Peter breathes as he finishes it. "I think they're probably being kept there. Too bad they took out the real information."

"But it's enough just knowing that they could be alive," MJ reminds him. "Did you find anything on his computer?"

"No, but I'm copying it all to a flash drive," Peter answers. "I'll look more into it when we're back at the compound."

With that, they leave with more than Peter had expected them to. On their way out, they're spotted by a security guard, but with only the two of them, they manage to evade capture, racing down the streets of New York to where their car is parked a few blocks down.

"So," MJ starts as they slow down into a walk, "are you going to tell the others about this?"

Peter thinks it over for a minute before answering.

"No," he says, a bit wearily, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "For now, I want this just between us, until we have more information. Okay?"

"Okay," MJ agrees without missing a beat.

Peter slows down until he's stopped completely.

"You always stand by my side," he marvels. "No matter what. You don't know how much that means to me."

Sirens start to blare is the distance—the security guard must have called the cops.

MJ just smiles and steps closer to him, closing the space between them until they're just inches away.

"You're worth standing by," she whispers, and almost like instinct, they slowly lean into each other until their lips tenderly touch. MJ's hand moves up to Peter's face, while Peter puts his hand on her hip, each of them responding to each other's rhythm until the time is blurred and they're the only two people in the world.

The sirens get closer, and Peter pulls them both into a nearby alley, shadowed in darkness. Eventually, the red and blue lights pass right by them, but neither Peter nor MJ notice. The universe is watching, waiting for them to discover a truth that could very well either make or break their causes and tomorrow, Peter will get to it—he won't stop until he finds out what exactly happened the night the Avengers' disappeared.

But right now, Peter decides, as he breaks their kiss to lean back and gaze into her beautiful eyes, the flashing lights gently illuminating her face, the universe can wait.

* * *

**Ahhh we're getting closer to the end! If I've planned this right, there SHOULD only be two chapters left. Chapter five is where the plot gets juicy. See ya then!**

**Let me know what you think! I love comments!**


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